“Hamburgers?” I asked Bitch.  She nodded.  When I looked at her minions, they signaled agreement.  Good.  Easy and simple.

Hey, guess what I had for dinner today, just before sitting down to blog!

“Charlotte, would you mind?  Maybe fries, too, if you know how to make them on the stove?”

“I don’t, but there’s some in the freezer that I can do.  They aren’t bad,” she replied.

I didn’t have fries, though.

“Good.  When you have a second, some towels for the dogs, too.”


I led the others into the sitting area on the ground floor.  With the shutter up, some dim light filtered through the rain-streaked windows.  Bitch was outside, tending to Bentley, who had yet to shrink to a more normal size.

Just remember not to take him inside before he can fit through the door.

Wait, dogs plural? So it’s not just Bentley who’s here, helping Rachel and Taylor. Are the others out of line of sight from where Rachel was, not being controlled by Undersiders?

Or maybe Rachel sent them down south to pick up the rest of the gang. Seems weird, though.

I stepped outside to give her directions to where she could stow Bentley until he’d returned to a more normal size, pointing the way to the beach.  She marched off with the one-ton monstrous dog, not offering a response.

One ton is about two thirds of the weight that was given earlier, so either Taylor is rounding down or she’s saying the weight again to indicate that he has shrunk somewhat.

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