Alright.
So - a few weeks back, we put a water bowl in the bedroom.
Why?
So the damn dog wouldn't whine to go out at 3a, only to run to the bathroom, drink from the toilet, belch contentedly, and run back into the bedroom and onto the bed.
hypothetically speaking, of course.
Anyhow, the small bowl of water in the bedroom is now the preferred source of hydration for both the idiot dog, and the psycho kitty.
I guess the water that comes out of the bathroom tap is just tastier than what comes from the kitchen.
today, twice now, she's gone to town on her food, stopping to walk across the house to get water.
Why, yes. Yes there IS a full bowl of water right next to her food bowl.
it's been full for a long time now....
At least she only thinks I'm going to abuse her, about 19% of the time, now. almost four months in, I'm guessing this is where it will stay.
Until unless I start abusing her...
The psycho kitty? she'll sit in front of it for extended periods, just to remind the dog who's boss.
Tonite, just a few moments ago, I saw my chance.
My kid was in the shower, and the dog was outside....
I filled the bowl with kitchen water.
" Today we're at world famous blah blah blah in New Orleans, and we've switched their normal coffee with folgers instant crystals. let's see what happens, with hidden camera...."
I didn't know it, as a child when this ad ran. But as an adult, I can, with confidence, call bullshit. Unless, perhaps, this world famous eatery in New Orleans, served shitty coffee to begin with.
Like... one of those terrible coffee vending machines in the kitchen, with a pile of quarters, only instead of quarters, it takes tiny pieces of the souls of those who ingest it.......
- level shitty.
Fuck. Dog just barked, and the water bowl sailed over the gate into the hallway.
Oh, c'mon. Dog's a moron, remember? A sweet, reasonably well behaved one, but....
So, there's a story. happened a few weeks ago, whilst fall was still beautifully fall-y.
It's about growing up, realizing your perspective has changed, and a weird dude by the side of the road.
wanna?
The woman I married, lived on the street a couple back from my own.
but 12 miles further west. We call it the country estate. And then laugh.
I was blessed with this drive, especially in spring and fall. you hit the county line and it's nothing but dirt roads and trees.
In the winter... you use the highway a mile further south. I mean, no reason to be an idiot....
I was contemplating this on a particularly fall-y evening drive back to the city place, and how right it felt that this splendor would be our guide, on endless trips back and forth, when I saw him.
Dude, standing behind his pick up truck, on the opposite side of the road.
Road's narrow and... barely a road in places, so you go slow...
He was getting out his... guitar. And as I drove on, I saw him the rear view, strumming and singing to... the creek that was there, perhaps. or maybe just accompanying it's music.
"Wanke..." I started. But I stopped.
See, old stuff, old...ways, can still come on automatically.
Always without thought.
duh.
"automatic".
.My younger, angrier, unhappier self, would have found it necessary to judge the wanker guy. And I would have had help, or at least a cheering section, more oft than not.
Old habits. Of no value.
There I was, dodging potholes, realizing he was not, indeed, a wanker.
(as far as I knew, at least)
He was just a guy who fed his soul
sitting on his tailgate and playing the guitar
next to a stream.
as the sun slowly set.
Who unknowingly reminded me that I'm no longer young, angry, nor unhappy like I was, in my youth, and wasn't it all exhausting, for no good reason?
And am no one to judge another's eccentricities.
So there you go.
Now off you pop to bed.
