March 11th, 2023
Dear Diary
Stormy day. Sent Fr. Tommy out to walk Chester. Pretty soon I hear him yelling outside my office. He’s on his phone. I’m looking down from my office window and he’s pacing up and down in the parking lot, or trying to. Chester sank his teeth in Tommy’s fosha (sp?). Even with the deform thing going on, Chester’s fast. Tommy managed to wrestle it away and went on stomping around in the lot, pulling C away from the cars. He’s lost so much weight, like a stick figure with that fosha thing. C dragged him into the bushes. Eventually Tommy dragged him back onto the sidewalk. I could hear T when the wind blew in this direction. “……I’m gonna have a heart attack!” Mr Drama Queen! He’s only 29. I don’t think your gonna have a heart attack (at least not before me!). He got closer to my window and I risked a little crack to hear better. Pretty bad wind. He was saying stuff like blah blah jump out the window blah blah convert to Islam blah blah. I know Fr. Tommy enjoys his time walking C just as much as Sr. Randi but if he gets any thinner Chester’s gonna just take over. Gotta get this boy more cheeseburgers.
I never thought I’d read an entry on this blog and have my immediate thought be “What the [Hades] did I just read?!”
I pity Chester’s poor veterinarian. A job like that ordinarily doesn’t require Kevlar.