“Upstairs?  I didn’t know we had an upstairs.”
– The Corpse Bride

There is a pestilence lurking over the house of Small Dog, my pretties.  Margot came down with it first, I’m suffering through it now.  We’re as perky as swollen glands, sore throats, and drippy noses will let us be.  Luckily she’s on the mend as her charming gentleman caller came into town to take her about for Valentines Day, but I write this to you from a bed of pain and a highly drugged state.

Here’s some humor to make us all feel better, courtesy of the ever fabulous Pinto: