I am a corgi.

My ancestors hailed from ancient Wales, where they drove cattle and sheep with nothing but their wits and their voices. They bossed around thousands of tons of livestock!

I got this.

I know where we are. I can smell the shampoo. Food Human's not listening to me and letting me go into the fun part of the pet store. She must have brought me here for a reason.

Another human! He says I'm cute and I'm such a good dog! Because I am! ❤️

Wait. He's acting sneaky. He put a second collar on me. People only do that when they want to take me somewhere. He's reaching for my feet!

"I have to check her feet out," he says.

"Okay, that's fine." Food Human is just letting this happen?

I am a corgi!

Never touch a corgi's feet!

I'll lay down and hide them. No feet for you, Sneaky Human.

"Is she normally skittish about getting her feet touched?" Sneaky Human asks.

"She hates it. I try my best to touch her feet as much as I can so she'll get used to it, but she really dislikes it." Food Human really does touch my feet, and she only gets away with it because I like her.

Sneaky Human reaches down again.

No! I am a CORGI!

DON'T TOUCH MY FEET

"Momo, no!" Food Human's yanking me out of the room.

"I'm sorry, this isn't gonna work," Sneaky Human says.

"You're right," Food Human says.

"The dog is just too stressed," he says.

"I know. I don't want a dangerous situation for either of you. Can we reschedule for a different day so I can try it with some natural calming treats on board?"

CALM TREATS? I know calm treats! Gimme some!

"Of course."

I try my best to be a peaceful person who comes up with win-win solutions.

I desperately want my obnoxious and condescending coworker to lose face anyway.

The knock on the door rattled the pictures on the wall.

"You really gotta knock that hard, Miss?" The frazzled delivery driver next to me spoke for the first time since we'd left Colorado.

"YES."

With that, the door swung open.

"What's all the racket?" A middle aged man in a t-shirt and boxers asked.

"Are you Don Harlan?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Well I'm the SONIC BOOM!" I tossed my cape with a dramatic flourish.

"What are you doing here?" Don asked.

"This isn't about me. See this guy?" I gestured to the driver. "This is Macario. He's got shit to do. His wife just had twins. When you order packages like this five minutes before midnight --"

Don interrupted. "I wasn't expecting him to actually deliver the package tonight! I made it impossible so the company would have to refund my shipping!" He laughed.

Macario's face hardened.

"Look, man. Macario's parents own this company. There's a real Jesus Gonzalez behind Jesus Gonzalez Trucking. Refunding shipping costs to goddamn eastern Nebraska is not cheap, and it takes a real financial toll on this guy's family."

"Not my problem. They can change their policy if they don't want me doing that."

"¿Bueno? ¡Papá! Lo siento que es medianoche..." Macario was already on his phone.

"It's 23:58," I said as I handed him the package.

"Well I'm not taking it now!" Don whined. "I can't afford the package and the shipping!"

"Too bad." With super speed, I pushed past him and grabbed a copy of the footage from his doorbell camera.

"Wait! Where'd she go?!"

"Right here," I said as I breezed by him again.

"...muchas gracias." With that, Macario hung up the phone.

He turned to Don. "The policy has been changed. Shipping refunds for same day delivery are available in the Denver area only."

Don unleashed a barrage of verbal abuse on Macario and me that turned the air blue.

"Hey Mac, you really wanna listen to this?"

"Nope."

"Stay right here! You have some nerve, thinking you get to decide when this conversation is over!"

Without another word, I hoisted Macario onto my back and ran west, back toward home and the babies.

Bill. A gentleman who joined the army as soon as they got involved in Vietnam so he could choose a non-combat position. The worst "trouble" he ever got in was for bringing a badger home (they were friends). He also got a little talking to for doodling in church, since his pictures were distracting the other parishioners.

Christmas 2005. This guy is the most devout lay Mormon in the history of Mormons. Still, when my mom and aunt were misgendering my trans twin brother and trying to get him to drive their drunk asses around, Bill said, "Where is he? I can pick him up so he can celebrate with us." He was more thoughtful than self-proclaimed hippies.

Now he's in hospice. He doesn't have much longer.

Oh my god!! Your Jaspurr looks like the Jaspurr I grew up with! 🥲 Thanks for the rush of childhood memories!

I miss her.

I miss her in the spring especially, when everything is in full bloom, from plums and cherries to daffodils and lilacs. Her favorite.

I miss her in the summer, whenever I see that little polka dot bikini hanging in the closet. I remember when she wore it to Hawaii and tucked a yellow flower behind her ear. It complemented the bikini perfectly.

I miss her in the fall, when the cosmos bloom. She planted them in the backyard. Whenever one bloomed in her favorite color, she'd be delighted. She'd insist on taking me out back and showing me each one. I'd kill for that interruption now.

I miss her in the winter, all curled up in her Minnesota Vikings jammies, watching the game on the couch and drinking hot chocolate. I never was a Vikings fan before.

I surround myself with her favorite color now. I planted a jacaranda tree up front in her honor. I make sure the lilac bush and those cosmos stay healthy. I use her water bottle, her headphones, her Vikings blanket, her mug. The amethyst necklace I gave her hangs from the rearview mirror.

I miss her so much.

We rescued a kitten. When we first found him, he had a respiratory infection. So much sneezing. So the dog was all curious and wanting to play! I think it helped them start out on the right foot.

Now the cat always wants to play and never sneezes, so the dog's trying to adjust to that.

Learn to care for yourself. Your emotions will feel easier to handle when you're well fed, well rested, hydrated, sober, and you've had some exercise lately.

Prioritize sleep. That means using your time wisely so you're not studying all night.

Sure, go out and party sometimes, but not all the time. Just because you can recover from a hangover in like 20 minutes doesn't mean you should make a habit of it

Eat vegetables. And fruit. And protein. Get protein and produce in every meal.

When your body feels good, your mind will feel better than it would if your body felt like crap.

Those three skills will serve you well at work, too! Show up, pay attention, do the work.

"Mr. Goldberg, there's a problem. We can't use this footage from last night."

"What's the problem?" The producer asked.

"Talent screened these guys, right? They're all supposed to be straight and in it for the money!" Dave, the production assistant, was beside himself.

"Right."

"Chris and Javier are going off the goddamn rails!" Dave angrily tapped at his tablet and set it down on Mr. Goldberg's desk with a little too much force.

The footage was raw. Chris and Javier sat on the couch. Chris fidgeted nervously.

"I came here to get money, Javier. That was my goal. Find the straight guy, laugh all the way to the bank. But you surprised me, man. I don't wanna lose touch with you when the show's over."

"Oh yeah, no, of course not, you have my number!" Javier leaned in closer. "I wouldn't fall out of touch. You're cool, I like hanging out with you."

"Yeah, you too," Chris said. His voice trailed off.

"You good?" Javier asked.

"Look, dude. This is really weird for me. I wasn't expecting to find someone like you. You're an amazing guy. I'm falling for you."

Javier's eyes widened. He laughed. "I'm not laughing at you bro, I promise! I was just about to say the same thing is all."

They leaned in together for an awkward, hungry embrace. The camera couldn't catch what Javier whispered in Chris's ear.

"It's alright, man," Chris whispered. "We'll go slow. We'll take our time."

"See?!" Dave practically wailed.

"I'm not worried," Mr. Goldberg said. "They'll just be less likely to be pegged as the straight."

"But it takes the gimmick away!" Dave grabbed the tablet.

"It brings drama!"

"Advertisers are gonna pull out! Conservative markets are gonna hate us!"

"Our entire show is about lying and playing to stereotypes." Mr. Goldberg was calm. "We're on Bravo, we can get away with some stuff. And there's no such thing as bad publicity."

"I still think this is a mistake. Can't we get one of them off the show? Find a reason to send 'em home like Kyle?"

"Kyle was on meth. These two are in love. Let it play out, Dave. I promise you, the sky's not gonna fall just because two guys pair off on our show."

Dave rolled his eyes.

"Send me that footage. I wanna make sure editing gets it."