Woke up this morning and my teeth were broken. Evidently today I am living an obscure old blues song. They'd come undone at the spot where I'd glued them before, so I've glued them again. Clearly I'm going to need a dentist sooner rather than later. Argh.

The next thing was Spike's harness snapping at the old repair on the chest-strap, as he was pulling like a nuclear-powered bullet train on the way to the woodland walk for his afternoon ball game. Luckily, the woodland walk is only a few hundred yards away from my front door and doesn't need walking along any roads. I only leash him at all in case someone's cat is lolling in the open. He won't hurt cats but it strikes me as bad manners to let the sharkmonster scare the crap out of my neighbours' pets any more than I can help. So that was all right, and I spent the afternoon putting a new stronger patch on the webbing with a piece of spare webbing off an old rucksack. I hate sewing but it should hold until I can afford another one.

Now I'm considering breaking something else on purpose, because these things go in threes and I don't need the third thing to be the camera or the computer or Squish's collar. I wonder if an empty coffee jar counts?
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