Before the party we went real estate stalking. I visited with various westside horse residents, basically trying to pass along the info that if anyone in your neighborhood seems to be dying and would need to sell their house and property could you call me? It's pretty pathetic. The dogs stay huddled in the car, ready to lunge out of their crate and attack if need be. We visited one lady with a goldmine of an old place, she is a savvy real estate investor and owns half of the westside. She'd never sell her place. She wears big boots with her cordoroy pants tucked in, and even though it was a hot sunny day had a giant knit cap with some kind of lettering pulled down over almost all her head. She has bunches of horses hidden back there. I gave her my card, we chatted horses for a while. You never know.
We just kept driving down rural driveways, finding all these hidden spots that are now multi million dollar real estate deals, if they ever went for sale. Meanwhile the team lays around on the patio, just waiting for me to buy them their ranch.
Because of the party, I didn't take them out to run last night. They irritated party guests all night and when i got up at 4 am with spreadsheet induced insomnia they came out to the office to pace around with me. When I finally got them down to the beach this morning, even Timmy ran like a racehorse. The small dogs just ran amuck til they tired out. It is not ok to ever let the team go a day without a hard run. I pay for it. I am not sure how much party food they stole last night, especially from small child party guests. It is embarassing to have bad dogs.
1 comment:
im going to hit ur door with a cheese block
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