Walking. With Wally & Yet More Great Adventures. (74)

72° F, and it’s 4:20 am. I’ve pulled into the Cove Island Park parking lot. 1,155 consecutive (almost) days on this morning walk. Like in a row. That’s right, 1,155 days. It’s not a typo.

There’s one other lunatic’s car in the lot, and that’s likely a wee bit too harsh. It could be his neighbor drove him home last night after a few brewski’s. So, in this parking lot, at 4:20 a.m., let’s correct the math: Two cars and one lunatic.

The weather app has been flashing alerts for coastal flooding later in the morning, and the clouds are dark, swollen and ready to let go.

I don’t want to be here. But, I can’t sleep. So, I walk.

But let’s roll the tape back a bit.

The day actually started at 3 am. There’s heavy rustling on the bed. I don’t hear any of the preamble – – that is, Wally breathing heavily, Wally licking his chops, Susan scrambling to get Wally off the bed, off the sheets, off the comforter, over the carpet and onto the wood floor, and the Grand Finale, Wally ejecting a mound of puke, now compost from scat, shit, crap he shouldn’t have been eating from the back yard yesterday.

I lay there, eyes closed, knowing better not to ask the two of them to pipe down so I can get some sleep. I don’t move, no Sir, you’re looking at an inert object.

There was some (Some) guilt for not co-piloting here, a short burst of something that felt like Guilt, but that had to be set aside quickly. You can’t disrupt millions of years of order in the Universe.

Men rest for the big Hunt.

Women care and keep the home fires burning.

That’s just the way it is.

Susan’s down on her knees on the wood floor wiping up the mess. Wally is circling, trying to get a few licks in — let’s see if maybe the 2nd time the nasty sh*t goes down easier.

Then, while the King sleeps, out of nowhere, here comes Wally offering full facial kisses. “WTH Wally, get the hell off me. You reek!

I’m sure back in the old days, like way back, the King wouldn’t have been subjected to this much disrespect. She knew he would do that, Man’s best friend and all.

Susan’s back in bed, all-cared-out and skilled to fall asleep in seconds, and she is, Out. Wally is tucked in next to her, snoring.

And there I am. Eyes wide open, 3:30 am.

I get out of bed, no point wasting time, right?

Off to the Hunt.

So I walk.

What’s that nasty smell in my mustache?

31 thoughts on “Walking. With Wally & Yet More Great Adventures. (74)”

  1. I have a feeling that if you hadn’t gone out walking, Susan might have encouraged you to leave…you know go out hunting while the woman nurture and nap…sorry I can’t even write that without laughing,,

  2. This is true. We’re made to fall back asleep right away.

    Wow, Wally is well trained.
    Even I wouldn’t have thought of that. Paybacks are nasty, dk.

      1. I noticed it when I gave birth to my first. Easy to wake up, easy to fall back into deep sleep.

  3. Big difference between getting up in the middle of the night to nurse a baby, then change a poopy diaper–I used to say to him or her, “Thank God you’re so cute” as they’d smile obliviously at the stinkiness. But, Wally has (to me) unnecessarily gross habits. He is cute, but…

  4. Awe man… our brains can convince us if anything. I hope the responses shine a light on the reality for you, Wally and Susan. Just saying. It is never a one man hunter kind of world. If it is, you’ve been reading the wrong books and listening to the wrong politicians. 😝

  5. David you know you LOVE Wally
    If not send him down to Florida
    I’ll keep him
    Susan and Wally need to get their beauty sleep and for the king he walks yo keep
    His sanity
    You need to publish Wally stories on a daily basis

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