Tag: Dog

Walking. T.G.I.F.

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1186 consecutive (almost) days on this daybreak walk at Cove Island Park.  Like in a row. A quiet, humid, overcast morning.

Would it be the great blue heron, a member of the King’s Guard, a sentry, frozen in place, on the same rock, facing the same direction, for the entire loop of my walk? No.

Would it be the two egrets passing overhead, and their snow white plumage, the slow flap of their wings, white lights against the dark shadow of thunderheads? No.

Would it be the fish hawk, the Osprey, circling high overhead, circling, circling and circling, patiently waiting for his breakfast to surface? No.

It will be this puppy.  This puppy, sitting with his Mom on the bench, who wheeled around to say hello as I approached.

This, I will remember.

“Come what may and go what may, a man always has the memories of his dogs.” ~ Halldór Laxness, “Independent People”

Wally’s Great Adventures (76)

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hello friends, wally here with another update. mom’s coming back late tonight so I’m excited. dad is too i think because the dirty clothes are piling up, the bed hasn’t been made in a week, and the fridge only has ketchup mustard left. Dad and i have done nothing but look out the window and lay on the couch all day while it rains. come to think of it, that’s pretty much what we have done since mom left. so when the rain stopped and dad took me for a car ride, i was so excited to get out of the house. i thought that we were going to the Pet Store to get some toys, and wow was i wrong. dad took me to the park. It was so hot and humid, the trees were still dripping rain drops. when i go on walks with mom and don’t want to go, i just stop and mom carries me. there’s no messing with dad. he looks at me and says absolutely not, and i had better start moving my little a**. i dig my feet in as soon as we get out of the car and won’t move. dad did not look happy, he took me off leash, and started walking away in the woods. and he doesn’t even look back, like whoa dad, where are you going? then he looks back, and says there’s a giant black bear up here and he’ll eat me in one bite. so i have no choice but to run and catch up to dad. so between dad and his giant steps walking like its some olympic event, and bears stalking me, i’m close to hyperventilating. dad said that he’s never seen anything so out of shape, heaving like i’m going to have a heart attack. and because i was standing more than walking, mosquitos were ‘gnawing the shit out of him.” anyway, i hope i don’t have nightmares of bears chasing me. oh, by the way, my foot is all better. yeh! have a great sunday. Wally.

Walking. With Luminous Detritus.

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73° F, and it’s 4:15 am. I’ve pulled into the Cove Island Park. 1,159 consecutive (almost) days on this morning walk. Like in a row. That’s right, it’s not a typo. And yes, it’s getting earlier and earlier, despite the sun rising later and later. Look at the Blog Mast. He can’t sleep.

It’s overcast. It’s humid. It’s hot, and this is 4:30 a.m.

I walk.

No, I’m not here this morning to bitch about the weather.

Or my lack of sleep. (A continuing & Growing problem.)

Or the trash that’s left behind all over the park by the growing number of visitors during the summer – SHAME ON YOU! You wouldn’t sh*t in your own house would you? Why here?

Oh no, I’m not going to go on that tirade again. No Sir. It absolutely did not cross my mind (again) to take an iron bar across the hand of the knuckles of the polluter(s). No, I did not think or say that.

Nope, it’s not about trash today, consciously or unconsciously left behind corrupting this walk, not that I needed all that much impetus.

And it did cross my mind, today being Sunday, maybe one should focus on all the good. And I did think deeply about that. On this quiet little walk in my little heaven… I walk a few hundred yards ruminating on that…hmmmm…F*ck that!

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

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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.

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No errant spy balloons flying here — U.S.S. in Pursuit (VOLUME UP!)

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Eric Kanigan flying drone. U.S. Sully in hot pursuit. Florence + the Machine on “Dog Days are Over!”