This is what my tongue feels like - like it is too big for my mouth, and like it would feel better if I could re-locate it outside of my mouth. Why, you may ask? While I was getting Noodles' poo sample (in a bag, thank you very much) out of the car to take into the Vet's office, Hanna suddenly jerked her hard, Labrador head straight up and into my chin, causing me to bite my tongue so hard that I started to see stars . . .

From the Vet's office we stopped at a strip mall with a butcher shop and a Petco. I went to the butcher shop first and bought a couple of steaks, which I then carried into Petco, because while the girls are good dogs, I'm not dumb enough to leave them in a car with $18.25 worth of filet mignon. After Petco, we headed to Ralph's grocery store, where I went in to grocery shop carrying a bag of steaks AND a bag of Petco dog treats (the bags of wild bird seed were safe, I was confident, even if left with the dogs in the car).

Golf was fun and I shot a personal best at the local course. I only hit a couple of seriously bad shots, and I was driving the ball better than ever . . . between concentrating on my game and drinking 2 cold Coors Lights, I barely noticed that my mouth can no longer accommodate my gargantuan tongue . . .