The last word, which I get, because this is my blog, har de har.

I provided an update on Henry's eating habits because people asked for one. I do not now, nor did I ever want, advice. I am now done discussing it. Done. I won't be discussing it again.

Also, enough about Donna. She's a nice lady who provided some advice, which I AGREED WITH, although at first her tone made me a little defensive. Because she was ordering me to do things I WAS ALREADY DOING.

I'm getting it from all sides about Donna. The people who decided that I closed comments to protect Donna, and the other people who decided that I closed comments because I hate Donna. Enough, enough, enough. I don't know why certain topics get people all riled up, but this one sure did. Donna, only you and I know what's between us. The others--they'll never understand.

Let's change the subjct now. To the rabid (maybe probably) raccoon, which is now living in my garage.

The exterminator came today. "Exterminator" is a nasty word for "lovely man who will take the raccoon to a faraway place, where she can romp in nature with her babies and doesn't have to piss all over my garage." There is a trap set. By tomorrow morning, the GIANT RACCOON (who, incidentally, left mounds of poop bigger than anything my dog could create all over a ledge in the garage, and thank God I never go in there, because if I had seen it I would surely have passed out from fear) will be entrapped, and the Lovely Raccoon-Taking Man will be on his way. I hope.