The Refrigerator

Dear Priscilla Bennett Friends,

Harry and I took Reilly back to the vet for his shot and examination. His walking is a bit better, and he’s not lifting his hind leg as much. It’s going to take time and several shots over time, but the vet was pleased with the slow progress Reilly’s making, and everyone seemed delighted to see him. They asked if they could take his photo and put it up on their Instagram, and Reilly agreed. I just recently learned Instagram and have been posting random photos of nature and beach scenes—whatever strikes me in the moment. It’s fun.

On the way home, we talked about what we were going to have for lunch. We had chicken cacciatore left over from the night before and some ham and cheese for sandwiches. Harry put Reilly on his pillow and went into the kitchen to fix the food. “Hey Pris, guess what?” he called. “The refrigerator is broken and has leaked all over the kitchen floor. We better try and get someone in here today, so we’re not stuck over the weekend.” Three hours later, the ice had defrosted, the repairman had replaced the old fan and thermostat for a hefty price, and we were cleaning up the mess and re-stocking the refrigerator with items that had not turned. “Well, so much for lunch. Here, have a banana,” Harry said peeling it. “I hope it was worth fixing. It is thirty-years-old,” I said and laughed. “Say Pris, how about the two of us going out for a nice quiet dinner to celebrate Reilly getting better?” I kissed him on the cheek and passed a sleeping Reilly on my way into the bedroom to change.

Take good care of yourselves,