The other morning, we lost our little old terrier mix, Blackie. Well, actually Travis lost her. It was my first morning of summer break, so I was still in bed. Travis was up, working out and getting ready for work. Then, my phone rang. I am not sure what time it was, but I was pretty sure our kids were still asleep, so it wasn’t them on the phone. I barely answered when Travis blurted out, “I’ve lost Blackie. I need help!” He sure knows how to wake a girl up! The last time “we” lost Blackie, the neighbor across the street found her in his backyard. We both have substantial front yards, with a busy road separating them. And it was winter. If his dogs hadn’t started barking like crazy, she might have wandered into the woods behind his house and never returned. Blackie has cataracts and kidney disease, can’t hear, and has dementia that worsens in the evening. She turns 15 on August 1st. So, now she is lost again and Travis is outside looking for her. I jumped up, ran to the door, threw on a jacket and some slip on shoes, and exited the house to find my blind, deaf, sweet, old dog. So, it’s important to mention here that I grabbed a short jacket, but one that was longer than my barely there sleeping shorts. And I zipped it up because it was cold and drizzling outside. So, I looked like a flasher, casually wandering neighbors’ yards in the early morning hours. Of course, I started calling Blackie’s name, because no flasher would lure children by looking for a lost dog. Travis, sight unseen, yells to me, “You know she can’t hear you.” I replied, “Right, but the neighbors might wonder why I am tromping through their yard, half dressed, so I thought I would make it clear that I am looking for my dog.” Travis seemed content to take his chances with groggy neighbors making early morning decisions about a dude in work-out clothes wandering around the yards.
Eventually, I found Blackie. I am not sure where exactly she was hanging out, because she came trotting from between some houses several houses down, like she was on a morning jog. Then, I called for Travis, because I didn’t think to bring my phone, and the flasher, the jock, and their dog went back home. Good morning neighbors! Usually, I try to keep my crazy to my property, but occasionally we have to travel.
Because we like to keep things interesting around here, we have to have more than one crazy at a time. After mowing the lawn yesterday, I jumped in the shower. I usually shower soon after mowing, because some of our yard is like the jungle, and I want the poison ivy off my skin. I am just trying to beat the jungle back using Big Green, our John Deere riding mower. While washing my hair, I noticed a lot of twigs and debris in my hair. This is also not unusual, since we have some trees in need of trimming and an aggressive row of arborvitae. I get whacked in the head several times each mow. There was one small piece of dirt that I couldn’t get out of my hair. When I finally remove it, I see a tiny brown dot. I thought it might be a tick, but I couldn’t see it well enough to know. And I had to know. So, I pinched that thing between my fingers, dripped across my bathroom floor, and grabbed my glasses, so I could get a look at it. Sure enough, it was a tick, of the tiny deer tick variety. I had to shake off the gross (I had a tick in my hair) and kill it by cutting it in half with my finger nail. I left those glasses in the shower, because it seems like I need them from time to time. Really, can anyone over 50 read the shampoo and conditioner bottles? Must they look the same? I am now of the age that I have shower glasses. But I still find time to be a flasher when necessary, so I’m still young!
Have a great week everyone! Bring on the warm weather! School’s out for summer! Oh, and the picture was Travis’ idea of a joke, since he came home for lunch yesterday. That’s me in the background, on Big Green, getting whacked by the pine tree in the tame part of our front yard. Gotta love that guy!