My dog, Marlowe, is a french fry snob. I discovered this after I was laid off. This quirk of his personality lay hitherto hidden from me while I was working full time because I didn't take the the time to drive all the way down to the drive-through fast food chains. The town I live in has not sanctioned drive-throughs for their fast food establishments, thinking that it will draw the wrong element to their town. I am not sure exactly what the wrong element is, because, well, there you have it, or rather there you don't. The nearest drive-through fast food restaurant is about seven miles away from me down by the freeway. I pass four or five food chains along the way, not including the ones in the mall, just to get to one with a drive-through. But you can't take a dog into those. Hence, the drive to the drive-throughs.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
I had had my tonsillectomy (see Three out of Three Doctors Agree) and I was due for my check up. All went well. Except for that painful, can't swallow, can't talk feeling, all went well. I had my Mom to take care of me and walk my dog. I had my previous Dogwalker, my nephew, come over before the surgery to show Mom the ropes. Marlowe is a very good dog, if he knows you. I had wanted my nephew to walk Marlowe while Mom went along for a couple reasons. One, to show Mom the route that we usually take. And two, to show Marlowe that Mom is, by extension, part of his pack. I didn't want any surprises for either Marlowe or Mom while they were on their walks. This was my chance to rest.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
I don't consider myself an overly organized or particularly particular person, set in my ways, immovable, resistant to change--that is until my mother came over to take care of me during my recovery from my tonsillectomy at the end of June. I have lived by myself in this house for eight years and during that time I have added the company of the African Cichlids and my dog, Marlowe. I have not needed to answer to anyone about the arrangement of my kitchen, or dining room, or living room, or laundry room, or bathroom.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
I made my self a cup of tea this morning. This was on the whole nothing unusual; the point was that I took the time to boil the water on the stove, use loose leaf tea, and let the tea leaves soak for the recommended four minutes. Yes, this is how tea is supposed to be made.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
As I was sitting outside at my sister's in San Diego, sipping a Longboard beer, watching my brother-in-law barbecue hamburgers and pineapple, their phone rang. It was my brother-in-law's mother; his sister had found a dog. His mom already had three dogs and couldn't take in any more, could he and my sister foster the dog while the owner was found? Immediate reaction from my brother-in-law: "Sure!". The look on my sister's face said it all: "You're lucky my sister is here otherwise there'd be some sharp words spoken." What she did say was, "Can we discuss this?"