We're back home. Mexico was great, but seems already a distant memory, buried under piles of work and medical bills.
Henry's had his leg surgery, and at this moment is catatonic in a crate in the living room, an Elizabethan collar round his neck, one leg shaved and Frankenstein-scarred, and one eye scarred and weeping. I'll try to get a picture up soon.
Other than that, I'm so busy I haven't had a moment to pull my head out of my job and write anything about the trip. As I'll be doing some close dog-sitting for the next couple weeks, I hope to have some time on my hands.
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