So the big news yesterday was Beau eating a sock that Madeline had left in a sneaker to walk barefoot on the beach. All Hell broke loose among the humans. A Google search–What To Do When Dog Eats Sock–yielded conflicting information. Some people wrote in to say that their dogs always ate socks and then within days, up to a week, pooped them out. Others suggested a visit to the vet. Opting for the latter, $75 later the animal had thrown up the foot ware and was good as new. The lesson here? In Cambridge, after Beau ate a glove, he was treated at Angell and that tab was $250. The next time he eats an item of clothing, we fly or drive here!
Angell, by the way, is a nonprofit institution, but its walls are lined with dollar bills.
Today is our final Friday on a MTS (much too short) visit to the U.P. We’re all slightly unhinged by the tumult of change–college graduations, new jobs, new schools, uprooting–and it takes awhile to get it together.
The grilled skirt steak from Missouri helped last night.
Today it’s MOTS (more of the same): Bacon, rye toast, eggs, and a long walk, maybe in the dunes.
Then tomorrow down to A2, and on Sunday, praying that the drivers are praying and off the road, a long drive BTB (Back to Boston).