Life seems to wierdify weekly. Quite the year we've had. Despite the loss of Gracee I'm still taking my daily walk to the local dog park to watch the dear tail wagging beasts and their owners. As if by magic one Friday, a Scottie appeared, something I had never seen in all the years I've walked that trail. It felt so good to interact with one again.
The next Friday, at the same time as the previous week, I returned hoping to happen upon Hamish and his owner. No luck. Instead, out of the blue, uprovoked, a little poodle with sharp teeth attempted to make me his lunch; effectively chomping through my jeans, making it the fourth dog bite of my life – two German Shepherds, a Westie and now, a Poodle. What made this incident all the more bizarre was the owner was a former next door neighbour, having acquired the dog after her move.
On to the cat. I am not a cat person, however there have been several in my life that behave distinctly doglike, enamouring me to certain specimens of the species. Yesterday, walking in our yard I was surprised by movement in the Weeping Katsura. Lo and behold, it was our neighbour's Gracee coloured cat. Charlie was quite content to hang out in his hidey spot, rolling over for belly rubs just like a dog.
The fang marked and bruised leg have me laying low, but the finger has healed enough to wield a hook of the crocheting kind, and I've put that Jojoland Rhythm to good use for a New Wave Throw:



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