I used her tired-out time to mow. I dunno why. It didn't need it badly or anything. But Bert had suggested I might want to, and it's about to rain again for a spate o' days. And he'd made a point to keep the mower accessible for me.
The hope to buy custardfairy a birthday drink this afternoon fell through.
Just put the dog back in her crate. Don't know if the craziness she was running around in was a burst of playful energy or more overtired nuts, but I bet on the latter. Hope I wasn't influenced too much in that choice by my own burnt-out feeling.
Gotta make one more trip to dogsitting before my evening obligation. They're running late on the drive home.