Social Security and fog

It's kind of foggy this morning. There is a little mist in the air so Buc was in a big hurry to do his business and put the door between Mother Nature and the warm bed I had recently vacated. (No, he doesn't get to sleep with me but he does get to lay on the bed while I get dressed.)

That's a much better alternative than having him jump around at my feet while I am trying to get dressed. Have you ever tried to put on a sock when your loving pooch decides to nip at the end of it? I even look like an old guy in the famous Coppertone ad when he decides that my undies need to be pulled down from behind. The dog has no sense of acceptable nudity.

Buc doesn't realize that I ain't no pup anymore. He doesn't understand why something like Social Security is becomming an issue with me. (A bone in every old dog house, if you will.) I have been paying that stupid tax since I was fifteen or around the time someone made the cheap ballpoint pen the latest thing. Pocket protectors soon followed but I wasn't big on those.

We all paid into this and anyone, old or young, knows changes have to be made to make sure those fifteen year old kids slaving away today get their share, too. Ain't gonna happen unless some changes are made and we all have to be willing to make them. Older retirement age or smaller benefits for people who want to retire younger. Means testing. What the heck, if you made it big, why not let your share of Social Security go to your grandchildren? And, maybe most of all, a constitutional amendment which bars the greedy Congress from spending the money on dumb things that create their dumb legacy.

Buc understands. He wants a warm bed of his own away from the drizzle of a foggy day. I agreed to provide that. All he has to do is be a good puppy and work hard at not pooping or peeing in the house; learning to sit and shake; and not bite anyone. If he does all of those things, the warm bed is a done deal. Pay attention government.