Knees and Pees

 Well, it was a busy morning babysitting Caroline, cleaning up after the fish canning, and baking for the hospice fair booth. I had an appointment at the clinic too, with Dr. Marnie Hartman. (She put down a mat for the baby to play on.) Unfortunately, I'm a hobbling mess. An old cartilage tear from my accident has gotten worse and my knee looks like a lumpy, partially deflated soccer ball. (So much for all those chores. I guess I over did it. Hauling the old wood scrap pile down to the beach at low tide and burning it all was probably the knee breaker. On the plus side, the damaged nerves means it doesn't hurt much.) After I saw Marnie, I did gimp around after Forte with a mixing bowl trying to catch some pee for a urine sample the vet needs in order to check his kidneys.  She wanted it by two o'clock. Thank God the Discovery Channel is not filming at my house. This segment could be called "The Funniest Catch." Except I didn't catch anything. I missed, or Forte did, or we both did. (Well, he did hit some things, like the flowers in the garden where I cornered him, my hand, a sandal, and the gravel path.) Forte is now snoring on the floor and looks as healthy as can be. I am reclining in the window seat above him with a hot cup of tea, a bag of frozen peas on my knee, and Anna Quindlen's new book. (Dr. Marnie was reading it, and we talked about it some, and I now know the shocking plot, but want to read it anyway.) I feel a little guilty just sitting here, but JJ is nearby writing a paper for her summer school class, Grandma Joanne is in the rocker reading as well, it is cloudy and breezy, and Chip did say that with my knee hurting, I need to rest and delegate. Do you think I can put him on Forte's  pee patrol when he gets home from work?


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