Ahchoo Chew

I've got the blues. 


I am so homesick for the Caribbean. I need to adjust better to being an outsider lost in America. Never in my wildest dreams would I believe that I would feel like such a clueless foreigner in the very country I was born and raised in. 


But I do. 


I've got the blues. 


It's been cold at night, plus pouring down heavy duty rains nonstop for 48 plus hours. So I usually love the rain, but the dog and I are tired of being cooped up in our tiny RV staring at each other. We tried watching movies (made us sleepy), we tried housekeeping (made us hungry), we tried cooking (steamed up the windows) we tried working (puppy wanted to play) so we tried playing (oops, we broke something and made a big mess).


I tried to drag the poor little doggy outside between squalls to do his business in the bushes. Poor doggy. Poor me. We dashed back inside, hiding under the covers, his little body shaking, my teeth chattering. 


Finally I dried us both off and we put on clean dry clothes. Yep. My little puppy is wearing his little dry sweater and hiding under the pillows for warmth. I find my winter slippers, the fuzzy soft ones to keep my toes toasty. I reach under the pillows and rub his belly. I sneeze a few times and go look for the tissue box which I bring back to bed.


A moment later, I get up to answer the phone, leaving the tissue box on the bed. While I am not looking...  somebody *ahem* helped themselves to  a tissue and shredded it. I wonder WHO could have done that?


I sit him down in front of the bright lights and start asking questions...

And that silly dog makes me LAUGH LAUGH LAUGH with his put upon somber face as I show him the torn up tissue, he gives me this oh-so-innocent look. 


Apparently he doesn't realize some of the "evidence" is stuck to his whiskers. 


How can I possibly feel blue with this handful of trouble to make me laugh?