Mint. The four-footed one loves mint. She picks it out of the garden the minute she can. If it can’t be picked out of the garden, she no doubt hopes we have some from the store.
I don’t mind sharing my mint with her however she doesn’t seem to understand the idea of sharing in return. Unless it’s after she’s finished chewing up all the mint she wants. Then she leaves me the half bitten or eaten pieces. Not the most appealing version of sharing.
Today she claimed the entire mint patch as hers. Now I don’t mind in the fact that mint comes back all the time so it’s not like a massive expense. However she took the whole patch as hers already. The mint season is now going into full-bore. So do I get and plant more mint or hope the stuff she flopped down as a resting patch serves her and I can use it?
Is it wrong to put a fence around of the mint to keep her out of it? Of course knowing her she’d find a way around the fence. Or perhaps I should consider that this year I will be mint free. But the four-footed one would still have her mint season.
I’ve spent a fair chunk of my life traveling. A good portion of my travels involved airplane rides. I don’t mind flying and am always delighted when you are high enough up to get a different perspective of the land you know so well when you are on the ground.
I have often wondered if birds and flying insects have the same enjoyment with flight, even though there is no way for them to tell me. Nor do I have a clue how their emotions or minds work. Regardless of all the logistical issues, I am curious about this.
I’m even more curious about this today. For one specific, innocent, unsuspecting fly. This poor fly that managed to have the misfortune to land in my garden. Near the four-footed one.
I’m not sure if the four-footed one is envious of those creatures who can fly. If she is may explain her behavior today. Which was a combination of pouncing on the poor fly and trapping it in her paws while dragging her paws on the ground. (Yes sometimes she does like to pretend she’s a cat!) When she was finished and decided to set the fly free it was evident the poor creature wouldn’t be able to live up to its name. I wonder if it will miss flying and being in the air. Poor fly.
The four-footed one loves to find patches of sunlight to flop down and rest in. As the sun moves across the floor, the four-footed one will happily follow it. If she’s outside, once all the distractions have been dealt with, she will happily find a place with lots of sun and throw herself onto the grass where she will promptly fall asleep.
I am a bit envious as I have had to learn to ignore the sun and all its appeal simply because lupus seems to not just feed by increase in strength by what seems like a million times thanks to the sun. So I will watch her find that perfect spot and settle her self down while I make do with the shade and a million layers of sunscreen.
When she gets too hot, she wakes up, pants, goes to her water to have a drink and then comes to cool off in the shade for a short period of time before the sun beckons her again. She can happily spend all day in this cycle, with short breaks indoors for things like food (she doesn’t like to share with the outside critters) and checking on her precious toys.
If it’s too hot outside for her it becomes a battle of wills between the two of us, she wants to be outside and I know she needs to be indoors to cool off. Usually I win this one because I am bigger than she is. But now and then she will become too set on staying outside. On those times she isn’t afraid to fight dirty, putting teeth on me, pushing hard with her legs and paws to keep me away. And once and a while she will use what I consider to be the ultimate weapon in any dog’s arsenal…flatulence.
Thankfully today she managed to get her fill of frolicking in the sun through walks and lots of play time, so she was good and tired. And thus, I was able to capture her and put her in the house so that the ants can stop using her as a speed bump or their version of Mount Everest (not sure which is more appropriate) and I don’t have to worry about her getting too hot. And this is just the beginning of a long season with her, in and out of the house non-stop!
Beloved was talking with some friends about how they used to go up on the rocks and such. They all mused about whether or not they’d still be able to do it, now that they have a few more years on them. The conclusion is that they could probably do it once, and probably just as good as they used to do it that one time, but that would be the extent of it.
We probably all have that same claim, once we get a bit older and wiser. More aware of the dangers and risks that have always been present, but in our younger days, we just didn’t see them. And of course, the fact is, we may have gotten a bit slower, but we make up for that by finding smarter ways to get the same results. (Or at least I like to think that’s the case.)
The funny thing is Beloved, and his friends feel like they now must head out and prove what they believe to be possible. It’s a bit foolish really for a group of grown men to be hoping around on the rocks regardless of the weather. Especially since one of these men happens to have an illness that has affected his balance. But you can’t talk an 8-year-old boy out of doing something he’s determined to do and let’s face it, that’s about the mindset they are at.
Perhaps a large safety net can be spread out so that when they fall they won’t get hurt, or wet, or killed…
Some people have lazy days, typically lazy weekend days. It’s a way of balancing out all the hectic rushing around we do during the week I guess. Slow things down, ignore deadlines and just go with the flow.
We don’t have those in my house. The four-footed one doesn’t believe in lazy days. She also doesn’t believe in sleeping in or altering a routine. She doesn’t understand when I need to rest or the routine gets messed up due to lupus.
Beloved attempted to have a lazy day recently. Get up when he felt like it, have a leisurely breakfast and just see where things took him. He told me the night before he was going to sleep in and just take it moment by moment once he woke up. He was confident in this plan despite me warning him that the four-footed one would be having none of this.
Of course when she woke him up as dawn was breaking he was not thrilled. The fact she was ready to start her day was lost on him. Granted I get being a bit grumpy when you get woken up at dawn because a cute little fou-footed companion needs to go outside. And yes it can be a bit ,cugh when that same cute bundle of fur demands her breakfast and play time right after coming in. And don’t forget the after play walk. All before 7 in the morning thank you very much.
I figured the two of them would sort out the lazy day by early afternoon, both of them napping, except that wasn’t the case at all. She was determined to make up for missed walks with him, and don’t forget about al the missed play time to. While he was hoping to put his fee to pay and read, it has her resting on his legs she was determined to get him walking and playing as if his life depended on it.
I, on the other hand, managed a nice lazy day!
Jerry Lee Lewis once sang, “shake baby, shake” with incredible passion. He also said “there’s a lotta shakin’ going on”. He knew there was shaking in the barn and invited us to join him in shaking there.
He shared with us how to shake, suggesting we just stand in one spot and then wiggle around, just a little bit. That’s all we have to do and viola we’d be shaking to his level of approval.
Well, it seems my hands have decided to get in one the shaking act. And once my hands started shaking it seems the rest of my body joined in. Regardless of whether or not I wanted to join in on the fun, the fun that was happening without the music I might add.
Dont ask me to carry a full cup of coffee our way right now. Maybe not even a half cup of coffee just to be on the safe side. Hi ever if you need a milkshake made, or something mixed together via shaking, I just may be your girl. Only don’t expect it to be done to order, I’m kinda doing my own shaking thing right now. And it’s not in a barn!
The four-footed one decided that today was one of the days where she needed to go for a long walk. She wanted to go wherever her nose took her and if that meant dragging me along as she dashed wildly from one place to the next, so be it.
From my point it did not seem to be a walk. It was more like a forced march only because I did not feel like having my arm pulled out of it’s socket. I suppose though if she pulled one arm out the smart thing to do would be to hold the leash in the other arm and let her pull that arm out of it’s socket as well. That way things would still be balanced.
The problem with letting her follow her nose is that she will end up a million miles away from where we started and be too tired to head home. Or not mind dawdling her way back. She doesn’t live by a clock or appointment times. I, on the other hand, tend to live by a clock and appointment times. So a million miles one way is not my idea of a nice morning walk or even a long afternoon walk. It’s my idea of sheer madness.
Now knowing this, you’d think I wouldn’t let her follow her nose, but I do. Because I have guilt. Guilt for all the times lupus won’t let me take her for a walk. Guilt for all the times she gets in trouble for jumping up on my swollen joints. Guilt for all the times I can’t play with her because lupus got in the way. So when I feel somewhat normal other than wracked by guilt, I find myself giving in to her little nose. Not that guilt helps shorten the distance or make time hold still, but…