MacTheWolf (imported) wrote: Mon Nov 01, 2010 3:17 pm WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS
I was researching Native Americans on my computer today when I looked up and saw Monty standing in the doorway of my den. Well actually, he was leaning considering he can barely walk. I lent him my wheelchair so he could sit in the sun outside. I just called ARMC, the hospital where he was at, and they said "we released him."
I don't know what his plans are but I'm NOT allowing him in my house to sleep or eat. The only thing remaining of his shack is a makeshift lean-to. He'll probably freeze out there but he's not my responsibility.
It looks like I haven't gotten rid of him after all. Shit.
Well so much for my firm resolve. Liz coerced me into letting Monty stay in her bedroom for a few days until she can find a permament residence for him. She did not want him to die in the the cold of his backyard shack.
Gawd help me, I am a wuss.