...Sharing war plans, party plans, I get, but WAR PLANS???
https://www.yahoo.com/news/5-takeaways-trump-officials-war-221700488.htmlMight as well be my bank account password with a death wish???
Moving on...
Today we find out from the urologist if the mass on Hubby's bladder that was removed was cancerous, as we thought, and came from his prostate, which is in remission. Confusion.
Not unlike the left adrenal gland cancer that came from his lung cancer, which is also in remission. See what I mean, confusing?
The clarification would be the fact that Hubby has lymph nodes that are also with cancer, and figuring out where they will go next is a daunting possibility of where that will be.
Let me introduce you to the crew...
Lastly, moving on to who they are, our crew...
I am Aussie, not from Australia, but American-made.
I will comply because it is fun and say Good day!
I am called Aussie because my mom asked a sixteen-year-old girl looking at me in the crate I was in at the adoption site that day what she thought I should be named. Mom asked her age, but not her nameβha! Without hesitation, the teenager said Aussie! By the way, she was just looking, so my mom did not steal me from her.
We never discovered the girl's name; Mom liked Aussie, too. Since then, we have found that it is a ubiquitous name, but it is still just right for me! My parents think that I am uncommon, even unique! I do like that.
I am an Australian Shepherd, a red Merle. And here is an interesting factoid about me: I was supposed to be a miniature Australian Shepherd, but as you might know, I AM NOT! I am a standard Australian Shepherd! Although I am now seven years old, I am the baby. I am the largest of fur babies, and due to my breed and being standard, I am just right.
I was three months old when Mommy and Daddy adopted me. I had been removed from a hoarder's home in the Carolinas with my litter.
Above is my PIC, taken on the birthday I shared with my dad, but dad is much older than I am!!! I was the first to be adopted, on February 16, 2018, on Dad's brother's birthday.
No tail/tale publishing, circa 2018.
Get it? I was born without a tail, which is preferable for all Australian Shepherds; only one out of five are born that way!
Hello. I am Bella. In the picture above, I am a Maltese Yorkie, so I am called a Morkie. I might be eleven years old. We are all rescues, so no one knows our ages for sure. I am the middle child, so I am what you would expect, with all those idiosyncrasies accompanying that! Being the only girl has its rewards as well as its difficulties.
My previous family turned me in, stating that I had misbehaved with their elderly dog. It had been said that I was driving him crazy! I was the second to be adopted on 8/18/18, clearing out the shelter's day!
My record called me Belle, so for no known reason, Mom decided I was more of a Bella. I was beautiful either way!
Hey, wait! Please don't forget me! I am Chance, pictured above, a Bichon Frise! I am 13-ish years old, so they think, and the eldest, and I like getting up early with Mom and Aussie. Bella sleeps late with Dad, till after seven most days, even later sometimes!
I enjoy a good tug-a-war on the ropes Dad had twisted for Aussie and me, and sometimes even Bella plays, too! I was the last to be adopted, on January 23, 2020.
I had been wandering the neighborhood for days when I saw Aussie and Bella in their living room window, so I hung out there.
The animal control lady had been called and came out to see if I had a chip ID with her machine, and Dad told her that he wanted to name me Chance. His reason is that if no one claimed me, "I want to give him a second chance!" So that is how I got the name Chance!
The Animal Welfare League checked me out and kept me for sixteen
days until I was allowed to be adopted. Good evening.
Easy as Aussie, Bella, and Chance, now you've got it! In order of adoption!
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