Greetings, my friends. Tis I. Ranger. Sans those ridiculous Yoda ears. The things one must endure around here for the amusement of
the overlord my mother.
And yet — what may come as something of a surprise — that is not my tale of woe today.
This tale starts nigh on five years ago at dawn. I had strolled into the garden for my morning constitutional when suddenly I was attacked without warning by a monstrous beast! There was a searing pain that ripped down my back and I cried out (in a most manly way), terrifying the beast senseless and scaring it off into the early morning light.
Mom: Uh, buddy, you were just hiking your leg to pee and your back went out.
SILENCE, woman! Have I not had to endure enough from you in recent days?
Ahem. As I was saying, after my battle with the beast, I admit that I was in some pain for many days and weeks after, which forced me into convalescence. However, I eventually fully recovered and have not suffered any ill effects since.
Last night, my old war injury flared up and once again, I am subjected to medications and bed rest. This, as you understand, is quite against my nature. I like to refer to myself as 17 inches of blue twisted steel due to my hearty constitution and rough-and-tumble attitude. But as I am not stupid, I will abide by my doctor’s orders so that I may, sooner rather than later, resume my duties as caretaker and guardian of our estate.
I do not tell you this to elicit sympathy or pity. However, your good wishes and salutations are most certainly appreciated at this low time.
As always, I bid you all “good day and good biscuits.”