Brutus and his new blanket. Yeah, I know. I just stifled the urge to gag. At least he's not wearing a fifi bow on his head.

August 30, 2013 – Friday

68 degrees/calm/breezy

Pentoga Road

I was awakened once during the night by the sound of heavy rain pounding on the tin roof overhead. We received just shy of half an inch and will add that to the two-and-a-quarter inches that fell a couple of days ago. The water table should be in good shape going into the winter months.

Thursday was the Day of the Dog House. I began work shortly after Sargie left and didn’t stop until well into the afternoon hours. I finally figured out how to attach the porch, yet be able to separate it from the house when I want to move the entire structure. The framing is close to being complete.

I went to Iron Mountain yesterday afternoon and rode home with Sargie after work. I’ll return with her this morning and stop at Home Depot to purchase the plywood, a sheet or two of foam insulation, and a piece of metal roofing. Hopefully, the doghouse project can soon be put to rest and Brutus can begin to enjoy his new digs. I’m also anxious to reclaim my barn and shop.

Oh, someone asked; the doghouse is only for when we are gone, so he has a place to get in out of the weather. Brutus will still be in the people house with us the majority of the time. He’s like my right arm… or a boil on my backside. None-the-less, we seemed to be permanently attached.

Sargie pulled a new blanket from a bag last night saying she'd purchased one for Brutus. The pup sleeps alongside our bed and if any part of the bed coverings are close to the floor, he slumbers with them covering his head. I think he's afraid of the dark. In fact, I know he is. We go outside before heading upstairs to bed and usually it's me who ends up standing beside a tree in the deep cover of darkness. Brutus waits on the porch, eager to go back inside. That boy must have a bladder the size of his head.

There’s not a lot of news emanating from Pentoga Road this morning. Hey, I can’t save the world every day of the week. In fact, it’s a welcome respite because as we all know, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…