First the good news: The packing is done and the water at my house on Gabriola is excellent. And … I’m getting a therapy dog.
Dr. Shoja wrote me a letter explaining my PTSD to a local breeder who will give me a puppy from an upcoming litter. I have to pay a nominal fee, but my diagnosis makes me eligible for these dogs bred for therapy. It’s a cross between a Bernese Mountain Dog and a Poodle. I won’t get him or her until next year though, which is best for Leon.
And … Costin, my adored friend, Fishboy, is taking my aquarium.
And my beds arrived, as did ¼ of the patio set. Tomorrow more things arrive but I’m not sure what. I hope all the other things I’ve ordered come next week. So everything is rolling out rather well. And the weather is sublime.
The bad news is I’m sick. I went to bed at 4:30 pm yesterday and slept until 8:45 this morning, forced by grotesque coughing fits (like only an asthmatic can get) and fever. This morning I’m feeling more human but I’ll rest all day.