Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
19 August 2013
Good morning to you, Mary.
We went a bit off course the other morning and ended up in the cat cemetery. If you go straight here, you'll get there. If you know where to look down, for all the relics of the cats.
Keep going straight at the red disco ball. Probably you haven't seen this, this is in the quiet forest and this was not a good place for Rocket to walk. Because not quiet.
Mary, this is the log I call The One That Looks Like Badgers Et It. Maybe you will find some rocks as good as this log? And some cactus?
You will miss the cat cemetery if you walk over the badger log. But this photo was from the evening, and you know I can't ever repeat a walk more than once. Every single one has to be different.
Here's a Monday morning list for you, Mary:
We saw a Woody Allen movie last night at the movies. Blue Jasmine. It blew chunks. I hate Woody Allen. But I did eat a huge bag of popcorn.
When we got home I hated Woody Allen so much I watched a slasher movie about a Cabin in the Woods on Netflix. I streamed this. Like I stream Pandora now, and I am listening to Quicksand right now, while I write this. The ending of the far superior Cabin movie had the end of the world caused by the stoner dude with the collapsible bong and Sigourney Weaver in a suit. Spoiler. But so you'll know he doesn't die. There were zombies. This movie was WAY better than that asshat Woody Allen's.
I was in the woods til nearly dark which makes me nervous because of pumas and branchstackers and I saw a sleeping girl there. Gustavo was scared of her and she didn't wake up when we ran by because we have been practicing running like silent Indians. She was sleeping like a little lamb, in shorts, under camouflage of some branches and trees.
Next weekend is SMART USDAA and the weekend following is the Regional. All my eggs are in the Gustavo basket. Otterpop is only entered in Gamblers. I'm not sure who I will sit next to, you know how much I like it over there by the fence. I wonder how many k-turns there will be? Dog shows are going to feel more quiet now, and I understand to expect and deal with anything, because it's just a dog show, and Gustavo is my dog.
We will be up at the field practicing, Mary. We won't look up at your house, because now you don't live there. We will imagine you instead, walking in the desert, with a stick to beat off snakes. Walking around out there, and looking up at that sky and getting the dogs out of the heat, and working hard to live a good life in the desert, a tiny bit better, every single day.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Woody Allen was at his best with his early comedies. IMHO.
What a happy and sad post, thanks, Laura.
Mary, I miss you already, and I haven't even been somewhere yet where you wouldn't be.
I hope the desert works its magic on you.
Did Mary move to Phoenix? Maybe we will meet her.
Post a Comment