The liar’s trying to call right now, but I’m just ignoring her. She may’ve been loyal all these years, but I can’t deal with any more stories from her. All she’s going to do is say she either sent the money or is going to. Meanwhile, it’s all bullshit and I know it.

In other news, sadly, Oreo died. He was gone when I got up. I have him in a little box waiting to be buried once Tom gets in.

I collapsed and washed the big wire cage and put Little Fella in a tank. Since he doesn’t wheel and wouldn’t need a wheel hogging up the space, I figured it was suitable enough for a big old lazy guy like him.

Later…

Oreo’s now buried next to Little Buddy, Houdini, Ratsy and Scuttles. We’re just glad he went fast. I hate it when they get tumors because then it is a long, drawn-out ordeal.

It’s a small world. Especially here in Maricopa. Tom met the guy who used to live next door. He’s been working there for 7 years. He’s white. Only his ex and ex-mother-in-law are Mexican. They’re divorced now, but their son goes to stay with him on weekends. Good. That way if the boy ends up being the type to blast his car stereo when he’s old enough to drive, I’ll only have to hear it 5 days a week and not 7, if we’re still here.