The postman cometh. For George.

I have this strange aversion to the act of picking up mail. Oh, I always pick it up eventually, but I tend to let it pile up for as much as a week couple days before I break down and collect it. I do have several sound reasons for my mail-phobia, one of which is that I just don't want to see all the bills that the postman brings.

 
And another other reason is that it's just downright dangerous going to my mailbox! It's way out on the main road and directly across from a much-used intersection. If a car is turning left from the main road into the road opposite my driveway, other cars will travel around it, passing on the right and this is exactly where our mailbox sits. It's been hit once, too, since we moved here last October. Smashed to the ground back in November. So I'm really careful about picking up the mail and keeping my eyes on the traffic.

Today was one such day that I did my duty by collecting the mail. Traffic was light and the road looked good. And wow! The mailbox was jam packed.

There was something I had ordered from Le Jarden girl, who was having a buy one print, get one free sale on her blog. There was that apron I ordered for myself (I'm not sure if I like it yet), and there was a package addressed to George Young.

 

In the package it was a pair of soft frisbees and a note from Dixie and her owner, Chere. Dixie's knees are poor and she can't run and fetch frisbees like she used to, so she gallantly gave up her favorite toy to a friend in need.

I must have been making a fuss over the new toys because George jumped up to have a look-see.

When he saw what it was, he wanted it right away. So we headed outside to try one of them out. And these frisbees are great! They are so much softer on his mouth. And they fly really well.

It's now his new favorite toy. In fact, I saw him sleeping with it later on. So, thank you Dixie! And thank you, Chere. You've made my dog very very happy.

Have a great day, all. Until tomorrow, my friends . . .