Ventura is a pretty small town, in a highly Republican county. Turnout was impressive. Both sides of the street went for blocks. No sign of anything but peaceful protest. No yelling, zero violence, signs about every issue imaginable.

National Puppy Day. Here's Cin when she was a puppy.

Also, fuck Trump AND Vance. And that smarmy reporter who thought the President of an invaded nation had nothing better to worry about than what he was wearing.

The Stay-Puft billionaire.

Seriously, though, none of this is wrong.

I don't have words for how I feel today. Every time I thought we'd hit rock bottom, someone said or did something worse, and the America I'm going to bed in doesn't resemble the one I woke up in. I'm honestly not okay. The Nazis have taken over.
Me, right now:

Plenty of my dog over here.

Cinnamon Toast (Cinnie) and Smudge.

Her Highness refuses to walk while in a sweater, regardless of the cold. And when I say "refuses," I mean this :

Gave Cinnie a peanut butter chew twist. She ran off with it, chewed it, threw it around a bit, aroooroooroowred about it, and reduced into the ecstacies of cuddling and wagging while chewing. I'm calling it a win. She wants another.

The cleanest girl, in a t-shirt, because it's a little cold tonight. She's sleeping on a pet heating pad, just to make it extra snuggly.

Gave her a trachea today, since I was leaving and she has some separation anxiety. It didn't help, but now that I'm home, she is tearing into it. I love seeing her happy.
#doglife

No way! I had a Meep! He was the best boy ever.