Psychic dog

While at Costco yesterday, I spotted a present for the dog and without even looking at the price threw it into my cart. ($19.99, as it turned out.)

Now usually when I get home, the dog and I have a certain routine. I walk in the door and she goes insane, mostly trying to jump into my arms so she can get to my face. I wave her off to the bedroom, saying "Bed, Zelda, bed." She races in, bounces onto the bed, and I come close enough that she can put her paws on my chest and nuzzle my face. She hasn't fully greeted me until she's had her chance to bump her head under my chin. If I'm loaded down with stuff, as sometimes happens, I go into the kitchen and unload while she weaves her way around my feet, shaking with excitement, and then we do the bed routine.

So imagine my surprise yesterday when I come in, unload, and then look around for the dog. She was nowhere to be seen. She'd gone out to the garage and was trying to get into the trunk of the car. Okay, I had brought steak home--but the steak was in the kitchen already. So what did she want in the trunk?

There wasn't much left in there. Hmm, but there was her present--boxed, I might add. I pulled it out and she went crazy, jumping up, trying to get it, licking it. She did not even care that I was there. She whimpered with excitement.

I could understand this if the present was a dog treat. If it had smelled like beef jerky. If there was something about it that said dog. But this was none of the above. So I've decided that the dog is psychic.

At least she is when it comes to a new BASKETBALL! I took it out of its box, took it outside, and oh, she was happy, happy, happy. And after several silent weeks in the backyard, where she never really barked at all, she's back to making furious amounts of noise as she tries to get the ball wherever it is she thinks it belongs.

Canvassing

Wandered around part of the supposed home town today, canvassing for Obama. In a broad sense, it was an absolute waste of four hours. Didn't change anyone's mind, didn't convince anyone to vote who wasn't planning on voting already, didn't help anyone get to the polls. But it was a pleasure to see the joy on some people's faces when they talked about voting for Obama. Most of the regrettably few people I spoke to were just...voters. Yep, they were gonna vote, yep, they knew the drill.

But there was an older black woman who had already voted who was so happy to tell me that she'd cast her ballot already and a young girl who told me that she and her mom and her brother and her dad would all be at the library first thing Monday morning and with both of them, the excitement was palpable. It made it real. It reminded me of what a miracle this is. He might win. I still don't believe he will--I think he himself said that if it's possible to screw it up, the Democrats will, and I certainly lean in the direction of believing that. And, honestly, I'm still terrified for his safety. But, oh, what a joy it will be if it happens. For me and for so many others who have and do suffer so much more than I do from the inequalities of our society.

Trill takes a shower

Trill takes a shower, originally uploaded by wendy4767.

It's not easy to take a picture of a bird while also also providing the perfect perch for her bath-time. Like the dog, she prefers running water, slightly colder than I would have anticipated.

The boy and I are both sick today, with colds and general misery. I do not like having company while I'm sick, and I think I've made him feel worse by making that a little too obvious. But I'm the crawl off in the corner and be by myself kind of sick person and he's the snuggle up on the couch and want attention kind of sick person, and they're really not a good combo.

Took an actual sick day from work but I am still feeling compelled to check email every hour.

Zelda and her ball

Zelda-Sept2008, originally uploaded by wendy4767.

I thought when she finally popped the basketball and it lost all its air that she would abandon it as a toy. Nope, it's still her favorite and now she can actually get her teeth into it!

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

A letter between F and H

The key of the letter between F and H has broken on my keyboard. I've had a hard time with L for quite a while but in the end, I can always successfully type it. Words that include L are only minor frustrations. The same is not true for words that require...the letter between F and H.

To write becomes more of a trial when one letter is simply unavailable. Fortunately, I do have a decent vocabulary and have thus far been able to use substitutions. But my, it makes for a painful experience. I wonder if I simply hold the key down for a period of time that is more than one would naturally ggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggive, if it would start workin . And sadly, the answer is no. A pity I can't take those letters and ration them out. AR H!

Zelda

I'm aware, with the bird, that she is a wild animal. That she doesn't think like I think, that her perception of the world is quite different, that her priorities aren't mine and that her feelings are probably not like mine either. She appreciates me as a cushion, she understands me as a living creature separate from herself (I believe) and distinct from the other living creatures (aka the boy and the dog) but I honestly don't know what more she's capable of. Lately I've been trying to train her not to chew on power cords and she sort of seems to be getting it, but she looks at me with a posture that says she's trying to decide if what I'm saying or doing is meaningful to her, rather than any evidence that she actually understands what I'm saying.

With the dog, everything I do has meaning. (She definitely doesn't understand everything I say, but I think that's lack of interest.) But every movement I make, every shift of position, every tone that comes out of my mouth, she's attuned to it all. It makes it remarkably hard to go out for lunch and leave her behind. This dog has me wrapped around...her perfect black ears.