If Distress Had a Monetary Value

Let me preface with a childhood memory that has nothing to do with animals: my Uncle D, MJ's grandpa, was a bookkeeper in Truk. He and my ma worked together, and I visited - more like, bothered - them almost daily. One day, as I sat at Ma's feet, practicing my numbers and alphabets (I had to have been in the first grade then) an employee of the company came in to see Uncle D. He presented half of a twenty dollar bill, asking Uncle D to give him a new bill to replace it.

"Where's the other half?" Uncle D asked, baffled.

The islands teem with mosquitos. If your windows had no screens, or if you slept outside, mosquito spray would have been futile. There was no Off lotion back in the day, so the next best thing to keep the biting menaces away when you slept was Senco, a green coil of incense of some sort that repelled mosquitos. This employee set his money next to the Senco holder, and apparently when the incense burned to its butt, the remaining ember fell onto the money, thus burning it in half.

Twenty bucks thirty-two years ago was like a hundred bucks today. Imagine the employee's distress at such a loss!

And now, on to dog talk, let me state for the record that I love Preacher and Sonya. They are my companions, my protectors, and my responsibility. It will take a heinous act on their part for me to even consider giving them up. They are the sweetest, most loving, naughty Doberman Pinschers you'll ever know. I love them, have I said that already? But sometimes, I find it such a challenge to justify how much I love them.

Yesterday, for instance. It was a glorious day out, and we all spent it outside. 5-Star and me doing yard work, and the dogs gnawing on bones in the backyard, and occasionally getting into a tissy fit with each other over a bone.

 5-Star and I had to go on a hardware run, so we put the dogs inside the house with free run.

We took longer than an hour. But that's no excuse for this...

And especially this...

I knew right away who'd done this. I think.

Preachiiiiiiiiiiie! What the... !

I tried my best to make things right, because I love Preacher.

I love my Preacher Man...

How I love thee, Preachie, let me count the... dollars.

But what am I to do with this...

Preacher did leave this bill intact. I guess I'll buy a KitKat bar to console myself.

Ugh, the distress of losing a hundred bucks is great indeed.



.