Yellowbrickroad! “Good” feels like a stretch, but weirdass for sure and it sticks in the mind (or maybe I’m just exceptionally susceptible to going-mad-on-a-journey horror).

A blue heeler dog with dark blue coat and tan points lays on barely-greening early spring grass by a concrete slab and in front of a white fence and White House. Her mouth is open in a satisfied doggy smile and her expression is alert.

A blue heeler dog with dark blue coat and tan points lays on barely-greening early spring grass by a concrete slab and in front of a white fence and White House. Her mouth is open in a satisfied doggy smile and her expression is alert.t

A blue heeler dog with dark blue coat and tan points rolls on her back in barely-greening early spring grass by a concrete slab and in front of a white fence and White House. Her paws flail with joy in the air.

Never had a fifteen-year-old before. She wants to get her learner’s permit; I don’t know how to tell her that she’s a dog.

I need people to know that Jeff brought a version of this character to my last MonsterHearts game and it worked upsettingly well.

This is an incredible story; thank you for sharing it and good luck with your race!

Okay, that’s funny.

Absolutely wonderful little book. One of my favorites to gift.

Oh, that *texture!*

I so hoped you meant the Mystery Man! But this will serve.

Yes. Yes.

AAAAHHHHHHH

Merrimack! Not far from Manchester, but a different town.

Oh, it sure as hell was! And still is, in the ripples! But having one specific Big Problem and a job that gave me something actively and directly useful to do every single minute in the face of said problem? Those parts were kinda nice.

Super weird to keep finding myself nostalgic for a time when the blind panic of early COVID response was my biggest problem and yet here we arrrrrrre.

If only there were some group they could have checked with to see if forging a signature was a good and moral thing to do. Some sort of…maybe we could call it an ethics committee.

A blue heeler puppy with a half-mask sits next to a person’s pajama-panted leg and looks up at the camera with bright eyes and alert ears.

So proud of herself for finally convincing sister to play with her for real (for real!). (Their game is called “threaten my life.”)

Attacked.

Just husky things!

Mood and a half.

Without naming your job, tell me something you say over and over at work.

“Well. Does it meet case definition or no?”

Everybody likes #TheTraitors.

Alan: (describes a horrible fate)

Gideon: (wag wag wag)

The “I know that voice” to losing my damn mind pipeline was SWIFT.

That we continue to persist at all is a testament to our faith in one another.

NOT TIRED.

And not stop until we’ve excerpted the poem in its entirely, 300 characters at a go.

Tempted beyond words to repost your repost of my repost.

You are willing to try
to understand the thing with your hands,
with the basic tools you've brought upstairs
from the basement where they live mostly
quiet lives.

Oh, that’s good

“I don’t believe in phrenology, I just like to do phrenology.”

And what a weird thing to say about dogs! That’s not…that’s not a thing, my dude. That’s not how any of this works.

*So* appropriate, though! I am someone who *enjoys* shoveling snow and does *not* have tantrums, and my clearest memory of the time was my very stoic and very Yankee neighbor coming by just as I was having a shovel-flinging tantrum in my driveway and quietly asking if I’d like him to get the plow.