I've got to stop being this busy at work. Normally I have more slack time than this; I don't know what's been going on, but it's starting to cut into normal Blog time a little much. I need someone to write my boss a note. I need permission to cut so I can Blog.

Today's big news is the fact that our dog, Callie, broke through our living room window while barking at the mailman. Callie is most likely a mix between a golden retriever and a shepherd and/or Chow (we adopted her from RESCUE [link on right], so who knows where she came from), and she's easily about 60 pounds of red-and-black fur and muscle. She's really an awesome dog. Very affectionate and goofy, and very gentle with my 13 year old chihuahua. But when the mailman comes around, she drops the sweet and cute act and goes full-throttle Cujo (without the little kid from Who's the Boss. If you don't get the reference, don't waste my time).

Our mailbox is actually built into the wall of our living room, so mail drops into the wall. This is very convenient if you're home sick and don't want to get dressed to go outside to get the mail. You never have to set foot outside. This arrangement is good for me and my lazy ass, but bad for the mailman, who must walk perilously close to the big picture window next to the mailbox. Where Callie is usually lying in wait so she can enjoy the highlight of her day: Barking Menacingly At This Seemingly Harmless Man.

Today, she apparently busted through the admittedly-thin glass and knocked a whole pane out. The kid across the street said he heard the glass break from inside his house. Luckily the mail man didn't get bitten, and Callie didn't appear to get cut from the glass. (I have been at work all day, and have only gotten second-hand accounts from Tom, who happened to have taken the day off to go to the dentist this morning.) And I am also glad that Callie didn't escape completely and run down the street. We live mere blocks from a major freeway, and the indian reservation. She would have never come back.

But aside from all that: what excitement! I am actually psyched that we have a dog that can bust through glass one minute and slobber you with wet doggy kisses the next. She's like the Hulk, in a way. Without the gay purple pants. Or the inevitable lurking Nick Nolte.