I went out last night with a group of my friends. Trip is gone officiating his cousin's wedding and I am here to live and breathe the mountains. I don't want to leave, anyway. But going out was a grand time, it felt good, like college and care free.
This morning came with Woodford on my bed and the sunlight warming my peeking toes. The wind was rampant. Hurricane Earl missed us, but he couldn't go unnoticed. I lazily lobbed myself around my bed, down the stairs, out the door. Let the rowdy chickens out to play all day. They're so spoiled. They just do whatever they feel like all the time. Always happy. Four are laying now, and this means a very large surplus of eggs. I have almost 30 in my refrigerator. They could open up a business.
For some reason, a couple of them have taken to coming up onto the porch and pecking at the door. I have no idea what they want, but it is a pretty decent attempt at being neighborly. They must be asking for a cup of sugar or jumper cables. I tell them to go away.
From there I did some more flobbing around. Took Woodford to the Blacksburg Farmer's Market, then on to PetSmart. I didn't buy anything at either. But I did go to Panera for a mid-morning snack. Their souffles are bomb ass, and though expensive, I eat them on occasion. Human flaw, I know. There have been worse.
But as I rolled up to the Panera, there was a dog already in the outdoor dining area. Now, us dog owners who take our dogs places always keep a very keen eye on the other dog owners. Are they serious dog people, or are their mutts poorly behaved and wiley? It's generally the latter, but the former almost always makes for a decent conversation. The other dog was a black lab/pit looking dog on a Flexi-Lead (a sure sign of a generally mis-behavin' dog). It was flopping itself around trying to play with Woodford. I'll have none of this. I tied him to a post in the shade, told him to sit, and went inside to order my food. When I returned, he was laying down in the exact spot I had left him. I got to eating my ham and cheese souffle, Woodford calm under my feet, and an older man walked outside. He looked at the other dog, tangled in chairs and flexible cord, and then at Woodford. He came over to stare at him for a few seconds and spewed glorious compliments all over him. How beautiful, well-mannered and happy he looks. I thanked him, and the dog owners behind me grew silent. As vane as it is, these little tiny moments make my day.
Most of the day I decided to lay in a hammock, sweep the front porch, and other small tasks that needed to be done. Just before dinner time, I thought it wise to go for a jog. Woodford and I waddled down to play with his newest friend, Jar Jar. The people that we thought owned our house (the ones with the two horses he plays with) got a new shepherd-ish dog. He and Woodford are kindred spirits. By now we've fully met the people, Bill and Theresa, and I'll just leave him in their yard as I finish my jog to the end of the road, and grab him on the way back.
Trip and I have been jogging together quite a bit lately. No big, long jogs, but small regular ones. It feels good. Makes everyone happy, and wears me enough to sleep and act like a real person. If I don't do something physically &/or mentally taxing in a day, things get ugly. I guess it's just like a dog. But Woodford won't have a problem napping tonight.
Speaking of! I'm in the process of volunteering for the Montgomery County Animal Shelter. I'll be taking on a foster dog for a month or so, and I really, really can't wait. I've always wanted two dogs, but they are so expensive to maintain, especially the way Trip and I do things. Feeding/vetting two dogs would be a little intense at this point in our lives. The bummer part is that I have the time and the ambition for two dogs, so this is a very wonderful option. The shelter vets her, feeds her, and I just have to treat her like she's mine all mine. For a bit anyway. This is the girl I'll likely be taking care of: Allie. She and Woodford are going to be best friends, do you see why? :)
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