My day...

Up and out and off to the leg doc to begin the process of having a new leg made. Maybe in a couple of weeks, I'll actually be able to walk around the block again. Yay!

Then it was a stop at the gun range to test a couple of loads out. Verdict: 8.5 grains of Unique under a 255gr. cast lead Keith bullet gives me about 850fps and doesn't work the brass or beat the gun, and they hit just high of point of aim at 20 yards consistently. The only falling plate out of 24 that I missed was my fault, and the load is a keeper. Likewise, 16.5 grains of Accurate #9 throws a 210 grain jacketed soft-point .41 Magnum bullet at about 1,400fps and they hit the dueling tree spinners hard enough to bounce them right back to my side of the tree again. I like this load a lot, too.

Then it was back into the other doctor to deal with the bronchitis. Quick test: How do you know that you're in a doctor's office in West Virginia?
Why you look at the magazine rack in the lobby!

American Rifleman magazine, front and center. Murica!

I got not one, not two but THREE breathing treatments and some nifty new prescriptions, and then I went out to the parking lot and spotted this glorious testament to iberal tolerance for others:

Let's see...a Gore sticker, a Che sticker, a vegetarian sticker and at least three calling people that she disagrees with "haters". Yep, sounds like we've got a liberal here. All that's missing is a swipe at Christians, but that's probably on the front underneath the "rainbow" license plate that I didn't bother photographing.

Then it was back home for a nice rest dog-a-palooza. I walked in the door and got hit by both Shepherds at once, jumping on me and begging to go outside. So I put them out in their run and then walked into the kitchen and realized that they'd had a field day while I was gone, taking stuff off the counters (Really dogs? Sour cream?! You guys really ate the sour cream?) and ripping into an old bag of dog food in the back of the pantry. Then of course Belle made her first break out of the pen in a week by somehow moving a large log that I had blocking one of her old bolt-holes, and when I summoned her back in, she jumped on me again and hit my nice clean khaki pants with a big muddy paw-smack. Not to be out-done, Murphy ran into the kitchen like a goon-dog and upended the communal water dish all over the floor, so as of this writing, they are both out on the front deck and may just stay there until I clean up their mess and calm down, which at this rate, could be sometime next week. Ass-dogs.

"We wuv yoo!"

Yeah, you two suck.