On our early dog walk this morning, Pepper and I passed thirteen white vehicles in one block. Since it was a Sunday, all the cars for each household were there, parked in driveways and on the street. There are no basements in California, because there are no tornados?
Actually, climate change has brought a few tornados to our state, one near my sister’s house near Scotts Valley, in the middle of the Santa Cruz mountains. Tornados and mountains don’t usually go together, but all bets are off these days with the melting polar ice caps and glaciers. The jet stream is not as predictable for weather these days. Straight-line winds across the Midwest didn’t happen when I lived there.
Dog walking is good therapy for me. If it’s brisk (as it was today with the damp fog), then I want to hurry to get back for a cup of fake coffee. But Pepper had other ideas, wanting to smell every single marked bush, tree, and fire hydrant. She wears a prong collar since I’m not very strong, but she still pulls me a little bit. Then I have to yell at her, and she moves along.
Pepper has been acting weird lately. She spends her entire day outside in the cold and damp, barking at dogs, noise, and the little boy playing in the yard next door. We’ve had to drag her inside at night and block the dog door so that she will curl up on the couch. I never thought I needed a ten-year-old dog to be forced to come in from the cold. I hope she doesn’t have doggy dementia or a brain tumor or something.
We already have one geriatric dog with a brain tumor in the house. Who needs two?
But I digress.
My DC daughter was in town this past week, and Daisy (the crazy Russell terrier) did her velociraptor growls if the other dogs got close to my daughter. Daisy wanted her all to herself, probably because DC daughter gave her belly rubs and held her like a baby. I don’t do either of those things. I give Daisy good back massages and food, but no belly rubs.
This post was supposed to be about the thirteen white vehicles. Sometimes I just need a photo or a visual idea to get started writing. Sometimes I have the whole blog post written in my head before I type a single word. Other times I have to ramble all over the place to get to my word count.
Sometimes I stop short of my 500-word limit.
Like today.
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 