Not from Bernie's. Apparently his report card was marginally less dismal than last time. Timmie may - may - have managed to get through to Stuart and Frida that counselling might be a better idea than further sanctions. I know I can't seem to, and neither can Stuart's mother. Sigh.
Took the dogs to the dog park with Timmie, and spent an hour watching him throw balls for Lucy while we wandered around and talked. Good weather for it.
We were at loose ends when we got back, so I finally had the chance to set him down in front of Blazing Saddles. Ended up with most of the family there. 'Twas cool. Went with Stuart to get Thai food, and we all gorged ourselves. Then I surfed pointlessly while everyone else watched some hilarious British Indian comedy show, and then Queer As Folk.
After Frida dragged Stuart off to the bedroom, we headed out to Berkeley for a revisit with Tori (skywaterblue, I believe). Walked around and talked, then went to Denny's and talked. Nice. Relaxing. Pleasant.
So, of course, on my way home I get a panicked call from stormmonkey - someone, almost certainly "She", had thrown Llorona in the back yard without chaining her up, which everyone knew was necessary. So I got to wander around the neighborhood with Rachell until we found her. We're now both trying not to think of the fact that her rats that died looked like they could have been poisoned. I'm beginning to think some deep survival instinct is what keeps me from eating at home.