Monday, December 20, 2010

An Old Sock Brings Joy

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameful spirit. –Pablo Neruda

Angel: Hey, that's mine, I saw it first!

Angel: Don't forget who's the boss here.

Angel: What did I just say?

 Angel: What part of I'm the BOSS didn't you understand?

Samson: OK, OK, so I back off a little.

Samson: For all I care, you can have your old sock. I think I'll go and bite Soldier's leg instead.

Samson: What's up with him? He won't play with me either.

Samson: You old dogs can be sooo boring. What's a playful pup to do on such a rainy day? I guess I just lie down and wait for Angel to finish with that old sock. Then I can have a go at it.

Samson mentions the rain above. And, yes, it has now rained since Friday. A steady and wonderful rain, but also a rain that I am ill prepared for. I cannot remember a rain like this in the four winters I have lived here. I looked out toward the east this morning and saw that there was plenty of snow covering the tallest mountain I could see to the northeast. The others in the eastern range had some snow. I guess it snows right now between five and six thousand feet. If this had been a snowstorm, I would have been snowed in. Now I fear I may be rained in. I feel I have to go and get the mail this afternoon and that will give me a chance to check the road. I'm definitely not driving on it. 


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