Not here, obviously.
If you've noticed the recent dearth of blog posts around here, it's because the end of the school year has slammed into my life with the impact of a freight train, and I'm still trying to get my feet back under me. You wouldn't think something as simple and predictable as school ending would wreak such havoc with life, but I've never been good with changes to my routine. The end of the year brings with it grade emergencies (see the last three posts), irregular school hours, band performances, open houses, volunteer appreciation events, teacher appreciation events, a flurry of birthday parties for kids with summer birthdays, summer day camp sign ups, summer music lesson sign ups, summer sports sign ups, returning and/or retrieving various items that have accumulated at home or at school but belong somewhere else, birthday party planning for my own kid (June 16th), and, inevitably, a tag-team of sick kids who need to stay home from school, supervised by yours truly, who really had other plans.
Oh, yeah, and this:
Admittedly, this is not really end-of-the-school-year related, and, also admittedly, is entirely my own fault. I really ought to know better than to look at the pet ads on craigslist.
His name is O'Malley (don't blame me; he came with it). He is staying with us while the rescue group that took him from death row at a local shelter (he was apparently hit by a car and has a healing broken leg) tries to find him a new home. The family that was originally fostering him had a medical emergency, and he had nowhere to go, so now he's here. I've been busy for the past few days with phone calls and paperwork and a meet-and-greet with my own dog, Sophie, to make sure they'd get along. He arrived here this afternoon.
This is him right now:
And this is Sophie:
I think they'll get along just fine.
It's official: he's staying. See the new collar and tag? We've renamed him Sam. I just couldn't see calling, "O'Malley! O'Malley!" across the park. He didn't respond to it anyway; it was the name the rescue group picked for him. He seems to like Sam better, or so I tell myself.
Or this one?
I held out for about four hours, which is probably some kind of record for me. 
Both human and animal members seem equally content with the arrangement. Sophie hasn't chewed on a rawhide since Molly died almost a year and a half ago. Not once, until now.
I now have dog hair to match every outfit.
