It's official. The papers have been signed. Sweet Abbey-Rose has been adopted. No tears this time. We spent so much time with Abbey's new Mom that the final transition was stress-free.The timing worked out well as I had come to the conclusion that there was something amiss with my feet. I've been blaming my shoes for several months now. I bought new trainers for dog-walking. I carried two pairs of shoes in my car and had another two pairs at the office, so that I could change frequently. The epiphany came at the nail salon. When my pedicurist firmly grasped my foot at the base of my big toe, I almost decked her. Ouch! The X-rays (mine, not hers) show osteoarthritis in my toes.
What am I supposed to do with that? Me? The dog-walker and even without-dog-walker, Hobbled! It's taken a week of rest, pills and not much improvement to understand that if I play my cards right, I can turn this around. She who can no longer walk must ride everywhere, and I'm talking four-hooved locomotion, not some sleazy limo. See, it's all about the spin.