Fortunately, Willie the ancient Pomeranian likes it. He'll slurp that even when he won't take water. I think we're nearing the time of the Big Shot, but C. doesn't want to talk about it. He's her dog, and I won't butt in. He's somewhere between 15 and 17 years old, and has had a good 10 years with us. Before that it wasn't so good. He's a sweet boy.
I'm off to town to get a blood test, in hopes of getting the thyroid meds right, and checking on D and B12 levels. Did you know most U.S. doctors routinely do incomplete tests on thyroid and B12? You have to ask, and even get pushy, to get accurate tests. It can make the doc uncomfortable (perhaps not as uncomfortable as wearing one of those open-back gowns in the cold exam rooms), but that's just too bad. It's important.
It's raining on the snow. There are flood warnings out for the area – we're up on a hill way above the Little Spokane River, so we're fine, but I bet all the street drains in town are overflowing. And the recent thaw has exposed many, many new potholes. Winter is hard on Spokane streets.
We had seven eggs yesterday! Our all time high, and pretty damn good for eight hens in February. Two today.