Just thought I’d make a little update on things, if nothing else it helps to remind me what I’ve done after I collapse at home from exhaustion and enter a state where my memory is temporarily wiped. And when I say temporarily, I mean permanently.
Silent Howls
Wolf is doing much better now. No collar, no injury; all is well. ^________^ He has, however, taken a shine to chasing shadows, though this isn’t the first time he’s been into the unexplainable.
A New Arrival?
Speaking of shadows, there may well be an addition to the Hudson family. No, I’m not pregnant; I’m contemplating acquiring yet another dog. Not a husky this time, as much as it breaks my longtime tradition. 
A friend of mine has two gorgeous black and brown Labradors who have just had pups and they don’t have the space to look after the entire litter so they asked if I’d be willing to take one on. I haven’t said yes yet but I have my eyes on a little jet black one with a weird brown spot on his back, currently named Shadow, although I think he’s more of a Raven. I’m not entirely sure what the specifics on Labs are so I’m going to look into it, and assuming it’s not too much extra work, I think I’ll take him before the week’s out. 
They Grow Up So Fast
Kids, one minute they’re bouncing on your knees and vomiting all over you, the next they’re young teenagers, bouncing on your wallet and vomiting all over whatever they happen to be nearest to. My niece is fast approaching that age and I can’t help but wonder where her childhood has gone. She hasn’t become a Little Madam; she doesn’t demand mobile phones and plastic, she hasn’t adopted an attitude because “it’s the way it is” and she’s smart enough to keep her head out of trouble and in her homework (although I sometimes worry she does too much). Yes, thank the stars she has remained normal but for how long? I recall my teenage years, being that they weren’t all that long ago, and the mood swings and personality changes one may develop can occur without forewarning – and disappear just as fast. Still, I’m looking forward to the boyfriend stage. The disapproving father and concerned uncle; me and Mark will make sure she never leaves home. 
Let’s Keep It Simple and Say It’s Not To Be
Love life, or lack thereof, continues as per normal with torrential rain of utter crap in the north while the south remains dry. 
As much as I joke about people being unable to handle me, I’m beginning to question if there’s an iota of truth to it. Now I don’t get out as much as I used to, work sees to that and my sleep patterns’ continuous cycle is a complete nightmare, which don’t exactly help but it never used to be quite this hard. I suppose I was different when I was younger and I wouldn’t hang out in the cesspools that I once dwelled in. There hasn’t really been anyone since Richard. 
The infrequent reaction here and there – the odd smile, the occasional nod or playful raising of the eyebrows, a random retinal undressing (which, by the by, is plain creepy) – but nothing more. Then again it’s not as if I react to these, not in the way I used to. And I’m not even sure why. Has part of my being become unconcerned with such matters and my brain has yet to catch up? Extreme indifference combined with an inner desire is highly frustrating, and trying to fight it is like beating your arm when it has paraesthesia; pointless, painful and in the end you just make matters worse. I won’t endeavor into dead arm jokes. 
I suppose you may be wondering why, other than this internal conflict, things aren’t all that great on the love front. In spite of the aforementioned reactions, I seem to have begun to scare people of the male persuasion. Not only have former college students done their utmost to avoid me when we collide in the streets – not sure why, I only recall a few incidents when I came down hard on people and I haven’t seen them since – but I actually managed to force a guy into retreat the other night while at a pub/club/bar/thing. I must try to bear in mind that many Americans are not used to the satirical nature of my black humour. I assume he was American, he had that kind of accent although, I admit I’ve been in this city for too long with little breaks. He could have been Cornish for all I know. 
Still, how dare he attempt to begin communications with a perfectly polite greeting and warm smile while I’m sulking in my drink. 
Random
Just found this in my photobucket account, boy does it take me back.
Should really update it and add ’still’ at the beginning. 
