Of work, and all its accompanying flamjamzytram, so I took today off.
On the constitutional with Le Puggin this morning, I passed a woman walking with her shiny silver weights. As the puggin and I got within, oh, fifty paces or so, she began to froth at the mouth in this manner:
Now understand that this darling canine creature stands about 12 inches high at the very pinnacle of his velvet triangle ears. While he does rail against and steer the end of the retractable leash with all his might like some snuffling, furry kite, all his might ain't that much. He was nowhere near her, and I was already reeling him in.
I said nothing, but every time I passed her on the circle track after that, I contemplated "accidentally" dropping the leash, loosing a slavering, gregarious toy hound upon her.
(On the upside, now when Le Puggin annoys me, I can threaten to send him to the house of the Lady Who's Not Into Dogs.)