I had just remodeled my living room when lava started seeping in through the base of the front wall. Within seconds a grey, steaming, bubbling skin had covered the floor leaving only tiny bare patches of oak. Suddenly I realized: Damn, I shouldn’t have turned on that lava machine!, which I guess was a feature of my remodel — maybe a cutting-edge, green way to heat my floors? I went to flip off the switch but nothing happened: more lava. I had nowhere to stand, and it was totally wrecking the finish.
As I write, again and again I keep hearing footsteps clomping up to my front door and then receding. I hypothesize that they belong to political activists who are reading the sign I put out there:
No soliciting, no matter how worthy your cause. Thank you.
Yesterday Stella and I got our shots, for rabies and flu, respectively. I didn’t really need that “respectively,” did I?
I’m feeling increasingly guilty about leaving her for so long. She’s getting mopey and hiding in corners a lot. So when she looked longingly at the toys on the shelf at the pet food store, I had to indulge her. I didn’t buy her this…
But she really wanted this one stuffed pig. She really did. I could tell. I thought it might comfort her while I’m gone. Notice that the first thing Stella does, once left alone with the pig, is to sniff its floral butt.
By the way, Polly Piggy is “created for interactive play” (as opposed to other dog toys) and is also a “really tough toy but still vulnerable.” It floats, and comes with the promise that it will be my dog’s “best friend and companion for hours of fun and enjoyment.” Here’s Polly five minutes later.
