We know how to make an entrance.

Last week, I kept repeating the old adage to myself: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.  Hence my absence from blogging.  To sum up the last week in two words: Banks suck.  But lo and behold, we closed on the bungalow!

Today is Lola Dog's eighth birthday.  I feel like this is a big birthday, as she was diagnosed with cancer in January and given one to three months to live.  She's showed them!  So what did I get her for her birthday this year?  A house!

She was so excited to see the bungalow - she couldn't have been happier running around her new yard and sniffing out the new smells.  In fact, she was so excited that she vomited on the front porch.  And in the kitchen.  And the dining room.  And in my car.  And the bloke's car. 

As the bloke reminded me, "I've been sick on my birthday many times."

But the best part of the day had to be our arrival to the bungalow.  After entering the house for the first time, we let Lola out to check out her new yard.  We did not notice that the fence gate had been left open ... but Lola did.  She ran straight out of our yard and to the neighbor's yard, where she proceeded to immediately take a poo.

We know how to make an entrance.

Love,
the bird (and the bloke)