Getting ready to go out of town for a few days and Jamaica was feeling puny. Her doctor, my pal, Hansel, was just back from vacation. I have to tell you, I was worried sick that this was gonna be that last ride. It was hard to see through the tears to get across town.
She got some new medicine and by the time that I got home from Kentucky she was borderline frisky. Talk about thanks giving. I had explained that Jamaica insisted on going for rides in the car. I had begun preparing broth to pour on her food every night.
"She's twelve. Spoil her!" had been Hansel's response.
Now I just saw a post from my friend Windy extolling the virtues of living the life in front of you. Eat desert every day. I didn't pay much attention after that.
There's broth boiling away in the crock pot and egg nog in the refrigerator.
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