There's an old joke about two Southern women who meet up at a reunion.  The first one brags of her time in college, her marriage to a wealthy man, her world travels, her perfect kids, her many material possessions.

At each interval, the second woman coos, "Well isn't that nice?"

Finally, the first woman asks what the second has been up to.  She explains that she's been to finishing school where she has learned to respond with  "Well isn't that nice?" rather than, "Why don't you go fuck yourself?"

I'm kind of in "nice" mode.

There are so many places/times I want to tell people what I really think, and all I can do is either bite my lip in a big way, or... murmur platitudes.

Meanwhile, there's Piper.  Loveable, loving, love on four legs.

She's so freaking cute.  And funny and smart and furry and fierce.

Whatchoo Bloggin'  'bout Willis?

I really need to get her the Emotional Support Animal vest and take her into the office with me.

If she growls at someone, I can say, "Oh, I'm sorry - she's been trained to detect bullshitters and assholes.  Which are you?"

Not very nice at all.

But that's where I am.  I am all over the place.

Well, isn't that nice?



The thing about teh doggehs is that they always know what's important. Just let Piper be your guide, and forget about the bullshitters. She's much wiser than the are, I promise.