05 August 2012
Hello from your old friends, team small dog.
I'm not sure why I never noticed this before, but summer has vanished into the same blur as everything else. Except with extra added cake. For some reason, a large population of almost everyone I know has birthdays within 10 days of each other and there are many nights out that end in cake. That is a lot of Leos all in the same rooms with each other, night after night. It gets loud.
Summers used to mean vacations and campouts and the beach. Luckily we rolled part of this into 24 hrs of when the dream of the '90's were alive at dog agility woodstock, and the beach part happens quickly, in the gray of too early and foggy before work. But somehow when the birthdays were all sneaking up into attack formation, the whole summer vibe got pulled out from under my rug.
Perhaps you notice it, in hardly any blog posts?
You are correct. My brain is too tired and I am rarely near my computer anymore. When I am, I seem to spend most of the time planning out driving routes across the left side of Canada that would end up pointing my mythical tiny trailer towards the top of Alaska.
Perhaps my dogs notice it in hardly any agility?
Correct again. They are spending a whole lot of quality time with togetherness amongst themselves, while I work. We are lucky to get in our short forest walks before work when we do.
I do own my first genuine piece of farm equipment however, a tiny John Deere, whose speeds are labeled with pictograms for Turtle and Rabbit. It goes pretty fast and I've been cautioned to not roll the damn thing. It's really a souped up riding mower, but it's almost like owning my own tractor.
I also don't have a puppy. I don't even know where to start on this subject. It's way too complicated.
There. Started and finished. I'll save it for another day.
In honor of life seemingly falling way off track, we are taking a hike today where there is no path. Only one dog gets to come, as she may need to be smuggled in a backpack through a rangerland bit at the end. It will start high up on a mountain and end down close to the sea, and we will make our own path by following close to the creek. Hopefully we make it, because Gustavo has been chosen to keep Ruby company at home.
I suspect we will come home bruised and scratched but at least satisfied of a whole day gone downhill on purpose.
by team small dog at 9:51 AM