I think the various tributes and remembrances and “never forget”s and such that are all over the ‘net today are good and important and needed, but I just can’t. Call me a delicate flower, call me cold or shallow or whatever, some things are too hard for me. And this is one of them. I’m calling it knowing my limitations.
Over the last few days, my good and loyal hosting provider—truly the very best hosting service I’ve ever had—has been working literally around the clock to deal with various DNS attacks that keep bringing my servers down. Which means every time I think to go post something, my sites aren’t working. Now they are, and all you’re getting is a story about my dog.
But if you’re like me, maybe that’s what you need, today.
So, we have this fence, now. Remember the fence? It is a good and fine fence, and allows Little Miss Barkypants a bit more freedom, even if we did have to find out the hard way that it wasn’t entirely secure in the beginning. But Otto fixed up the gate and now we have a completely impenetrable dog containment unit (all for the low low price of a metric butt-ton of money and two months of aggravation).
The weather here in Georgia turned in the wake of the recent storms; after what was one of our hottest summers on record to date, we had a couple of days of unseasonable cool temps (like, in the 60s all day long), and now we’re coming into our more typical fall temperatures. In short, the weather is gorgeous. It’s cool and crisp in the mornings and warm but not overbearing in the afternoons. Evenings are cooler again, and more often than not, Otto and I will slip out with Licorice for a walk after dinner.
So when I take Licorice outside on a leash to head down to the woods so she can do her business, when we come back up onto the porch, I’ll often close the gate and then unclip her, allowing her to roam free within the gated area. Usually she’ll run around for a bit while I water plants, empty the pool filter, etc. Then when I’m all done, I call her and we come back inside.
At least, that’s the way it worked this summer, when it was a billion degrees outside. Now that it’s cooler, Licorice has decided she’s not so interested in that routine.
So I took her out a couple of days ago and did what I needed to do and then called her as I headed back up the porch steps. And… nothing. For a minute I wondered if she’d gotten out again, but then I heard… something.
I couldn’t quite see her, though. The pool area looked undisturbed. (Except for the fact that we laid down the umbrella before the last storm and haven’t stood it up again, because we’re lazy.)
But then I heard another rustle. Ah.
She’d found a sunny spot. And clearly had no intention of leaving it. Even so, like the moron that I am, I called and called and tried to cajole her back up the steps with me. Much like my teenager does, Licorice surveyed my antics with wide eyes and a touch of disdain.
After what seemed like forever, she came to her feet and I turned around to head inside, confident she was behind me.
Of course, she wasn’t.
She was having a little snack. Because that’s what you do when you’re queen of the jungle and feeling a mite peckish.
“Mmmmmm… delicious grass things! I can puke them up inside later on!”
She stayed out for about an hour, before sauntering up to my office door and asking to come back in. Since then she’s spent a sizable portion of each day outside, and Otto and I have taken to referring to it as her time “out on safari.” She comes back rumpled, sun-baked, twigs and other foliage in her tail, breath smelling like grass and lord only knows what else. In the evening the children ask her what she saw in her travels—elephants? Lions? Mighty, mighty toads? Sometimes she tells them stories (in a high-pitched voice that may or may not truly be hers) about her adventures. Like, she fought a cobra! And drowned it in the pool! And then she made herself a salad. Or maybe she just kind of flicked a stick into the pool and then ate some grass. Whatever.
She’s an excellent distraction from the worries of the world at large, is my point.
Thanks for the distraction of the adventures of the mighty and powerful Licorice. I, too, am a delicate flower and have been avoiding the TV all weekend. Never forget – wouldn’t it be nice if I could for a day or two? Still, a very important time, just not one I want to immerse myself in. This is just what I needed. Carry on, king of the jungle and loyal sidekick, carry on!
I’m overwhelmed today too. I go to my reader and feel guilty for deleting the ‘remember, don’t forget to remember’ posts. My dogs, however, are offering no respite. Could Licorice perhaps call them?
My sister calls it “patrolling the yard.” Her dog looks for any interlopers, a shadow that could indicate trouble a’brewin, and barks furiously at it.
I’ve been reading this blog since I was fourteen (since Chickadee was in kindergarten, if I’m remembering correctly!) but I rarely comment. Today I wanted to thank you for making this a safe space; I have awful PTSD from 9/11 and in the week surrounding 9/11 it’s completely awful.
So the fact that you acknowledged it but didn’t dwell made me feel a little better.
Thank you.
Is it horrible of me to be happy that the reason you’ve been AWOL this week is your ISP and not something going on with the family?
Hugs and scruffles to Licorice of the Jungle!
A distraction is exactly what I needed. Thanks for making me giggle!
Thank you.
Thank you.
I too am glad that your disappearance was not due to drama in your family!
Thank you for a great distraction today.
Thanks for the break from the relentless “REMEMBER!!!!!” media saturation. We’ve been locked inside today, watching “Madagascar” – 4 times! I just can’t deal with the anniversary.
Glad you’re back.
“An excellent distraction from the worries of the world at large”. Exactly.
Thanks for this post. I’m glad I’m not the only one who has been avoiding TV and newspaper today. Hard to believe it’s been ten years already…
Hee – reminds me of how my cat pretends to be feral jungle beast when he’s outside with us, running away from us (but only about 20 feet or so), or alternately stalking us. Or stalking bugs. His pupils get all dilated from the excitement of being WILD.
Thank you for the distraction. I live the “remember” piece a lot of days when I see my husband put on his uniform and go to work. I don’t need a specific day with media saturation.
I wish I would have read this yesterday. I, too, figured out my limitations. I can remember that horrible day without reliving it. And yes, I’m perfectly happy with a post about your dog any day of the week. And even more happy that your server is back up!!!
I’m just reading this now, but I appreciate it too. I was on a total media shutdown over the weekend because it’s just too upsetting. There’s no chance I’m ever going to forget — I wish I could — and I certainly don’t need to re-watch the footage to remember what happened or how I felt that day. So thanks to you AND Licorice for the non-traumatic story.
We have a Great Pyrenees and he wants to do that all day, every day. Hanging out, surveying his domain, protecting his livestock (we are his livestock. Baaaaaa.)
I’m reading this a day late, but thank you for the break.
Yeah, I just couldn’t do it, not even in a facebook status. Good thing you’ve got Licorice.
I live in NYC and one of my best friends FDNY. I also have alot of family and friends who are either currently deployed or will be again soon, so I can’t forget. I watched some of the coverage yesterday and cried alot. At least there was alot of football for distraction. I think the coverage and the remembers is more important for other parts of he country that don’t live in the shadow of 9/11. Talking to friends in other places yesterday thy said remembering is important because it is not somethin they think about every day. I don’t usually dwell like I did yesterday but everyday I remember. I think it is important to also remember sacrifice of the Soldiers and First Responders everyday not just days like yesterday