In fact, it’s fucking great to be home, for at least two reasons.
1) Solly was so excited to see us, he did an unprecedented happy dance on the couch, which went like this:
OMG, DAD’S HOME!!!! Flings self into Al’s lap for 5 seconds of extreme snuggling, then looks to see if I’m still there. Confirms that I am right where he left me at the other end of the couch, hops like a bunny across the middle cushion and flings self into my lap — OMG, MOM’S HOME!!!! — for five seconds of extreme snuggling. Then looks to see if Al’s still there…
Repeat all of the above about a dozen times. Best welcome home ever. (Keep in mind that this dog is at least 10 years old.)
2) Coming home to an altitude of 583 feet after being at nearly 7,000 was like walking out of the best yoga class ever: I suddenly felt all loosened up and loaded with energy. I kept bouncing around, going, “Holy shit, I feel like I could run a marathon!” — after a day of fucking air travel. Oxygen RULES!
Unfortunately, I got up way too early this morning and am definitely not loaded with energy at this writing, so serious posting will have to wait until after I’ve gone back to bed. For now, I just want to say hi and give big, giant thanks to Fillyjonk and Sweet Machine for all the awesome content they posted in my absence. They rule almost as hard as oxygen and happy dogs.