If anyone has been wondering where I’ve been for the past month or so, it was just around and about, for the most part. While Mike and Heather were promoting my blog on the East Coast, handing out my business cards like they were $3-off pizza coupons and getting me an orange Syracuse collar at Manny’s, I shared a “staycation” at home with my buddy Lynn .
And not much happened here, to tell you the truth. Let’s see: The baby rabbits and raccoons got bigger. I met some new dogs. I missed the UPS guy. Mostly I was happy just lying around and sucking every tasty molecule out of the peanut butter-and-yogurt-crammed Kongs that came from the freezer. One night Lynn didn’t give me treats fast enough, and I showed my disapproval by ripping my young friend Halle’s portrait of me right off the wall of my crate. Everyone’s a critic, I guess. Halle’s supposed to be back from Montreal any day now, so maybe I can con her into drawing me another.
Almost as soon as Mike and Heather got home, Aunt Susie showed up. I remembered her scent right away! This time she came with Rosalie, Mike’s and Susie’s mom. Rosalie was very, very nice to me while she was here, so even though she is not among my regular readers (she’s so 20th Century!), I let her pose with me for a personal photo, anyway.
While she and Susie were here, we took another trip out to the Olympic Peninsula. I got to walk all around the ferry with Heather and logged many miles along the Olympic Discovery Trail. Not a lot of wildlife to track, but it’s good exercise and senior-friendly. Hurricane Ridge was neat, even though I had to hang around the parking lot and visitors’ center. At least I got to go along this time . And I even brought home a nice souvenir: A large marrow bone from Mike’s pork osso buco at the Dupuis Restaurant between Sequim and Port Angeles.
I was glad to see Mike and Heather when they got back, and I had a great time with Susie and Rosalie, but the afterglow can only last so long. Since it had been almost a month since my last toot, I decided to welcome Mike back taking off on him in the park. Instead of chasing my ball, my nose jerked around and I was sprinting into the woods on the trail some small burrowing mammal, maybe a rat or a mountain beaver. I heard Mike yelling, trying to lure me back with promises of treats, but I was having more fun ignoring him. I found the hole into which the animal had vanished, and I plopped myself down, deep within the blackberry and stinging nettle, making hardly a sound or a rustle in the leaves, disregarding all Mike’s whistles and calls, digging. Concerned about my silence and the impending darkness, Mike called Heather on his cell phone to come down with tools and gloves. Then he decided to slog in on his own and haul me out by the harness. Good thing, too, or I might have been there all night.
Today I’m back outside in my exercise pen, watching the painters go in and out of the house next door and guarding the block against dogs and strangers with fervent barking and tail-wagging. Yes, vacation’s over, and things seem to be getting back to normal.