So when Emma Dog and I hit Bear’s Ditch, our favorite place to walk, the first thing she does is go in the water to drink and cool off. This afternoon after she’d waded around for a while she started to shake herself. As in, dry. Then she visibly caught herself and got this look like, “Oh.”
We play a little game. Or rather, Emma plays a game that I perforce have to play along with. When she gets out of the ditch she tries to shake water on me. If she does, she wins. (It’s not a sophisticated game. Emma is a straightforward kind of girl.)
I have few doubts that she does it deliberately as a game. For one thing, she knows perfectly well it bugs me: it makes me hop around and cuss. Which she obviously thinks is funny.
Fortunately it’s a broadside-only sort of weapon. I can foil her by either keeping out of range, or at least in front of or behind her. She sometimes tries to hold out. But since shaking herself dry apparently a reflex, usually at some point it gets the better of her and she simply can’t help herself.
But she will often try to outmaneuver me, somehow catch me in her field of fire – that’s another reason I’m sure it’s a deliberate game. And sometimes she succeeds.
Today she nailed me right off. I was standing with her on a short leash – got one of those Flexi-Lead things on a spring reel – by the side of the dirt road to let a woman with a dog pass. That’s our usual habit, as Emma is well aware. And since I was tethered right next to the little monster she got me dead to rights with no chance of escape.
Fortunately it was a warm day, with just enough of a breeze to take a little edge off without being chill. Accordingly, I was wearing shorts. When she gets my bare legs, which she mostly did, it’s not that big a deal. We live in the desert, for cripes’ sake; it evaporates. It’s when she blasts muddy water all up my freshly-washed trouser leg that she really racks up the points.
Then … the little monster caught me again. I tried calling foul; this time I was standing right beside her because I kindly stopped to allow her to say hi to a couple of her dog friends (she has those now) through their back fence. She wasn’t having any of it. Apparently I was unaware of the rule, all’s fair in splashing Daddy and war.
By the way, I honestly believe one major reason Emma doesn’t mind wearing her harness and leash is that she’s afraid that, without them, I’d wander off somewhere by myself and get in trouble.
As I indicated, it was a gorgeous Spring day in Albuquerque’s North Valley. The trees and grass and bushes are greening up nicely. Lilacs are in bloom, and I love them second only to honeysuckle. Of course I’d love it more if I could actually smell them. This damn stuffy nose got old months ago.
Still, I’m glad I can at least appreciate their lovely purple color, And at least remember how they smell.
There were plenty of birds, mostly this time of year’s Usual Suspects: geese, ducks, robins, some mourning doves. The spring migration should be in full bore; not much evidence I saw and heard today. Did hear cock-pheasants call twice, but they live here. And anyway I didn’t see them.
Still love the birds, though. And I try to appreciate even the commonplace ones.
Life goes well. I’m still hanging fire on a couple of writing projects, not least of which is of course the Great Dinosaur Lords Rewrite. But I continue to plug away at the tasks which, though still not writing actual story, much less getting the damn novel rewritten and delivered, must nevertheless be done.
If I don’t hear by tomorrow I’ll email The Editor again. It’ll be two weeks since he said “a week to ten days.” If nothing else I’ll ask him to send me the High Points – the biggest issue, or issues, he has with the novel, so I’ll have some idea of what I’m looking at.
Then I’m gonna sic Kay on him.
More soon. And as always – thanks for reading!
