Can We Get A Do-Over?

Like most of our Saturdays we had things to do. Susan wanted to go to the bank and to Trader Joes and perhaps get her car washed. I wanted to get the grill’s propane tank refilled and maybe go for a bike ride and finish my freelance assignment.

First up on the agenda: taking Ranger in to the vet’s for her inaugural visit/shots. I even bagged up a fecal sample for them to examine. Here’s a snap of Susan with Ranger in happier times, the moment the doc walked into the exam room:


After a cursory exam and a decision to leave Ranger for a flea bath we  hit Trader Joes on the way home. But upon arrival back at the hosue we were greeted with this blocking our driveway, the latest in a long and seemingly never-ending parade of parking ‘tards:


The primary distinction the jackass owner of this vehicle holds over aaaaall the others is that this was by far the Most Amount Of Vehicle Blocking The Driveway. Ever. And as a result of that dubious achievement I didn’t just have the Cadi cited, I had it flat-out towed. Parking enforcement showed up within 10 minutes, a tow truck shortly after that and in no time the yellow bastard was hooked up and on its way to and OPG impound. Good riddance.

A short while later on the way back to pick up Ranger we hit the bank for Susan, then the U-Haul to get the propane tank refilled, and then to the vet’s where the shit hit the fan. I won’t bother to recount it here since I ‘splain it all over here on

Suffice it to say it isn’t pretty, and Susan and I — and Ranger — are still in something of states of shock (although Ranger, who got the worst of things, seems to be the quickest recovered from it).