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bear by san

March 2017

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bear by san

I went to hell, and to the races.

I dreamed last night that the mastiff was an elephant. He was using his trunk to pick up and snuggle kitties, much to his delight. The kitties were less amused.



"The Tindalosi Donna Tartt New Yorker Story"

New Words: 3087
Total Words: 5229, or 5500 MS format
Pages: 22
Reason for stopping: Draft! Done! And stuff!
Mammalian Assistance: headbumps from Marlowe, needy dogs.
Stimulants: seltzer, peppermint tea
Exercise: I'm siiiiiiiiiiick. *whines*
Mail: nomail
Tyop du jour: Mebd what you have rent.
Darling du jour: She pushed up to the bar next to a fat man in a damp black coat, who clutched a magic blanket in his hand.
Books in progress: Ed Sanders, Tales of Beatnik Glory; Michael Binyon, Life in Russia; Charles Sheffield, The Amazing Dr. Darwin
Interesting research fact of the day: TEFLON (TM) was invented by Roy Plunkett in 1938.
Other writing-related work: none

Comments

Why don't I ever have dreams like that?
first, you need a fever....
Did your hands feel like 2 balloons?
I am pretty puffy, now that you mention it. And achy. All over.

Hmm.

Maybe I have hepatitis.
*g* people are always shocked to find out that the Great Dane is the *small* dog.

And yes, mastiffs are... something else. If only they lived twenty years, and didn't drool, they would be ideal.
The larger the dog, alas, the shorter the life expectancy. Our guy is nine and in very good health for his age; the oldest mastiff I've heard of was twelve.

And yes. They slobber like mad things. We have towels strewn all over the house. *g*