Adventures in dog-sitting: walking around the house it's like I have two shadows, a large gray one and then a small black one, the shadow of a shadow. Last night when I arrived it was dark and strange and I didn't know what they needed or wanted. But they are very well-trained, intelligent dogs and after repeated inquiries we finally had the following conversation:
Me: Are you sure you guys don't want to go out?
Them: Incredibly excited yipping, jumping, running toward the door.
Okay then! The large gray one is more outgoing, but the smaller black one is definitely the brains of the operation. Like most mental wizards, he really likes to play fetch. This morning I taught him something, which was that I wouldn't throw his slobbery red plush bowtie unless he put it up on the deck where I was standing. I just did it so I could see him learning--I'm such a freak for education.
It was gorgeous here today, a toothy line of snow-capped mountains suddenly visible in every direction. I had a good day which included playing the guitar with two other Sarahs and a conversation with someone wiser than myself about how to respond when someone talks sincerely about "the revolution" (a dilemma I face at least weekly here).
I've also been reading about "the Wolves" (no one else resists, why should I?) and their publishing business. They didn't (at least officially) start out with grand ambitions; the press was a hobby and they were publishing books by their friends, mostly for a customer base of their friends. Right now this seems right on to me. I want to publish my friends too, and I'm thinking, before the original birdwatchers all disband and it fades to just a fond dream . . . The Owl of Palo Verde anyone?
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