Today is not a good day to die. Turns out the bump on my foot is not something terrible. It's just a bump. I have a few bumps, and every time my people discover a new one, the Lady tries to pretend it's not there until the boy's insistence that she "take Amos to the vet" and get him "checked out" finally wears her down. The Lady knows I hate the vet, and she doesn't like to wrestle me in there and have to answer the questions that she says make her feel like an irresponsible pet owner. As if she owns me--hah! The vet is so weird about poking things into orifices that don't belong to him--why would he do that? Clearly I don't like it. And when I let him know I don't like it, he puts something on my face so I can't bite him. Talk about taking any likelihood of fun out of the picture--sheesh. Thankfully, I don't have to see him again for six months. Maybe he'll relocate during that time, and my people won't find a replacement. There's always hope.

So, in the meantime, I will carry on, trying to teach my people all they need to know about getting the most out of life while I'm with them. Lesson for today: be grateful you have an old dog who loves you. And don't forget to let him know you're grateful. He will accept cheese as your expression of appreciation.