We Drove To CT

Sitting up in the Bricker watching an absurd show on the netflix instant download. Husband snores downstairs alone. Dog aren't home. The old lady in charge of the kennel (spa) where we left the dogs said she'd bring them a blanket. They have adjoining cells which each have a plastic pedestal where the dogs can lie instead of the stall's hard concrete floor. The cells have individual doorways which allow the dogs to go outside into their outdoor stall area from where they can see each other through the chain link fence. They can also look across to the pens of the other dogs which are kennelled there and they can also look up the nearby hill to see goats hanging in the yard and above that, a large fenced in area, also filled with individual kennels, all inhabited with st bernards, one after each gigantic other, all living to breed, all barking their heads off. Behind them is the farmhouse, the barnhouse and the cat=smelly shed room where the mistress of the kennel sells her wares and keeps her books.




This show is so sleazy and horrible great. It is touted by netflix as the Male Sex in the City and Anthony Head is superb, once more with feeling. I want to watch more but I should sleep and there doesn't seem to be more than one episode offered on the streaming netflix. I just heard a loud firetruck-like siren off in the distance of Greenfield.

I was told about this dog spa from my boss who leaves her dogs there. I guess it is fine and it's not super pricey and what I love is that it is five minutes away from the Hartford airport so we can pick them up super quick instead of driving all the way to Greenfield before seeing them. It is weird right now because since I am not on the plane travelling, I have this time to muse about the dogs and what they are doing instead of dealing with airports and airplane neighbors, crying babies and dry skin and rental cars. I am looking forward to picking up the dogs and bringing them home more than I am looking forward to getting on the plane and travelling to Hawaii. Please note: I didn't state "more than I am looking forward to vacationing in Hawaii." But I do have the time to wish we could have brought scraps of carpet to put down under their plastic pedestals and perhaps big fluffy dog beds to put on top of the pedestals and maybe some Indian



tapestries to hang about, I wish we could have tacked some photos up and perhaps we might have plugged in a radio they could listen to, although you know Pickles and Peretz would be arguing about the station choice constantly. Peretz will finally have his dominant will heard and classical or jazz music will waft about the closed in barn with all the empty stalls except those two over on the right, close to the front door, where our dogs from the cozy beds of Greenfield shiver the night away with the paltry heat promised to be bestowed upon the dogs after all the doors have been closed and the lights have been turned off. Cats and kittens will be the sole prowlers and the only sound heard is the very seldom yelp from that one cranky goat who sleeps on a sore buttock.

If our plane crashes, please go pick up the dogs at Meadowrock Kennels, rt 75, Suffield, CT and find them good homes amongst our friends and families.