Sir Jake the Faithful

My dog is a nut. He's fifteen years old, and starting to look it. And the poor bugger lives for nothing except for my mother. He follows her around, pines when she's not home, and generally loves her and only her (Unless someone else has food, of course).

This week, my mother and my sister, Monica, have gone to Ottowa to see Algonquin college, where Monica intends to go to get her pilots license. Of course, that means that Jake's reason for living isn't home. When I woke up this morning, I saw Jake, lying motionless in Mom's room.

I just about had a heart-attack, which is a great way to start the day off. Jake wasn't dead, thank god, which I probably should have known (He sleeps like the dead, that dog. Seriously, he doesn't move for hours when he sleeps), because there's no way that dog is gonna die when Mom's not safe at home, and even then, if he goes, who will follow her around all the time?

Of course, with her not here, he's peed everywhere, and will likely do so some more today, because no one is home.

In other news, Spring has officially sprung. Not only on the calender, but in actuality. I saw flowers today. Purple crocus' and those little white flowers I've always called Snow Drops, but I'm not sure if that's the correct name. I'll take some pictures tomorrow.

Also, I kind of want to do those stupid facebook fill in the blanks quizzes/memes for my characters. Is that lame?

Also, I just noticed, I have ten followers now! Woohoo! And, because I am going to involve you all, do you have any pets? Tell me about them!