Sure enough, I'm sick. Or rather, taking the long, slow road to getting there. That tickle in the back of my throat has turned into a cough (the nice, non-productive kind) and something funny is going on in my chest. Not knock-knock-who's-there funny, but more of a a guy-walks-into-a-bar-with-a-monkey-on-his-shoulder funny. You know exactly what I mean, I'm sure. The good news is there are only 14 inches of snow on the ground and getting around outside is a real joy.
Duncan has been quite good, though. He cuddled up with me on the couch all day, his head resting on my leg. I'm sure he would've made soup for me if only he could get his paws around the can opener.
Here's a picture from a year ago when he was still wearing his collar from his surgery. That's Little Man curled up on Duncan.