May 02, 2017
UP we are, and shall be it seems, as the shrill sound of the telephone aroused out of sleep. (I could learn to hate that machine, without difficulty.) This was a call requesting a cheaper place to stay for a week. This after I told him my discounted weekly rate. He, I have to admit sounded a bit distressed. It was the sleep deprivation that will do me in, and everything else. The house is devoid of customers. However if not that then this. The neighboor’s rightful chatter and clatter of the day starting. I have put the kettle on to chug thru another day. If there has not been a call, the banging and the smashing of garbage trucks nearby would have gotten me out of bed sooner than later.
The usual characters, moi and the Canis familiaris are, I am watching, Lucy is not, the precipitation come down, very early in the morning, sipping tea. I am sipping she is snoring. Second cup in hand, Lucy has in her golden like way wedged me into the desk, in an effort to get closer to me. You are never unaccompanied with a Golden, ever. This after being mere seconds from me in the bed for 8 hours. We dove into it, as we returned to boot camp after an appeasement to a cold and sore throat. I type with pen in mouth as a result. The last requirement was a 100 crunches and increasing by 10 bouts of insanity, twice over.
The start of the day, month and moving from mud to the spring season. April showers bring May flowers. (my weather reporting its not an exact science.)
The tulips are pocking themselves thru the bedding of dark-brown leaves that protected them thru the winter. Lucy has taken to rooting thru the beds excavating what catches her fancy. Her white face blacken with happiness, on many occasions recently. It was and still seems to be, once upon a time a favorite activity of hers. Spring reveals the pot holes in the grass she has dug in exuberance.
The difficulty is her hind end does not hold up as well now as she digs. When she was younger, full of youth and strong legs we had magnificent hollows competing with building sites in the neighborhood. Apparently her magnificence the mayor announced an increase of double in building permits for the downtown core in the last six months, double last years. To get people to build, they have an events center going up, and is apparently and presently only 9 million over budget, according to some estimates, but not the city’s.
Miss Lucy P has got spring fever. She does not want to miss a smell or aroma. She shoots down the driveway, proceeding to gallop over hill and dale. I have upped her majesty’s vitamins and it demonstrated an increase of vigour. It reminds me just how much frantic energy she had when she first arrived here. OFF we went.
Like in the olden days when she was a spring chicken, she did not want to stop, while on our gargantuan city walk. As I attempted to turn the ship towards home, she sat down. A friend we had not met yet, and admirer of sorts, and there are lots of them for an old slow dog, inquired kindly, “if she was tired?” “NO, she is just stubborn,” was my response, “she wants to continue that way, while I want to go this” pointing with my mittened finger down the trail in the other direction.
A little bit later, Lucy indicated by pointing her snout at the parking lot, we should, a time where we would have taken the car home, take the car home. We were in fact, passing the parking lot we patronize, by the local dairy. I was not expecting to walk this far and by this point neither was she. We could not drive home, the problem being, La Tomato was in the driveway she had just run down. We had hoofed it from the house down to the riverfront. I did wipe the wet from the rain off the public seating and I sat down, forcing her to, just for a while in the rain. When I had recovered, sufficiently we continued albeit slowly back home.
Its her natal day this month, I have her papers to prove it around someplace. I have quite forgotten, along with everything else that is important in life, the exact date. She is 13 years old, She continues to do well, slowly, pants a lot, but I would too if 91 jaunting thru seasons not quite of the sun. Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is far the best ending for one. Oscar Wilde, Miss Lucy Patricia, and MOI