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Yesterday was cesspool day. The shocking smells, the gurgling noises, the loud truck hogging up the driveway. What more could a dog ask of life! (No question mark; that's an exclamation of the highest order.) You can't just stop and smell the roses; it's too predictable. You've got to do what dogs do: sniff it all.
Hey, and the cesspool guy was so polite. I think he thought me beautiful. He didn't actually say those words, but I could see it in his blue eyes. I also think he had deep respect for Shane's low bark behind the glass door.
Best wishes, Juno
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