Monday, July 18, 1977

Got up late. Dressed. Worked with Guerly and a tiny bit with Greta. Helped with fire. Pop went to Biscayne. He came back. Ate dinner. Rested. Got up. Pop went to town. Saw A-, and Speedy. Ate supper. Heard "Dulcimina". Went to bed. Thank you, Mr. O, Thank you. I ate:
  • Breakfast: 1 mango, 1 busta
  • Dinner: white rice, sardine+chocho+mango+tomato sauce, mango+seasoning, 2 busta
  • Supper: white rice, mango sauce
Damn. I'm getting sick of sardines all over again.

When we first got Greta, I'd gotten a book on dog training. You can imagine, if you've been following The Story So Far, that I took dog training very seriously. All things considered, I did a pretty good job because Greta was pretty obedient; she came, she sat, she lay down. The only thing that was hard for us was "heel"... and I never really got her to heel without a leash. I was also really tough on her, poor doggie, and being young and left on my own didn't really understand the concept of "rest" or "doggie-has-a-short-attention-span." She was such a sweet doggie. I hope she lived out the rest of her days peacefully.


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