Yesterday I went to the club with the dawgs. It was a glorious spring day, and it was just so nice out... I just left the archery tackle at home and spent the morn in the back forty with the hoople heads.
I dunno about Macey (the brown Indian dawg). She’s coming up on 15 this year. I thought I was going to lose her last year... but she seemed to rally and pull out of it. Some days are good and some are tough but she did alright. I have to lift her in and out of the truck, and up and down stairs sometimes. She just loves to snuggle and cling these days, and that’s alright too.
Out on the trail though, the hills were a little tough. We just slowed down and let her take her time. I ain’t gettin any younger either. I’d stop and wait for her, get lost in my thoughts as I stared off into the trees and sunshine. It was jarring to come back to myself after such wool gathering... and find Macey gobbling a pile of elk turd she found in the snow. I’d beat her ass for that, if she weren’t so damn old and dumb. She can’t do any of her other commands anymore either.
For Mort it was business as usual. He walks on our six and guards the rear, Macey still leads up front... but we go nowhere real fast. I lost myself again in thought amongst the trees, and was startled to be brought back to the present with Macey gobbling rabbit turd this time. Goddammit, it’s like watching a toddler cramming is maw with Glossette’s Raisins! How does she do it? There’s a foot of snow over this stuff and still she can find it and eat it!!!
There was tons of soft white pristine snow around, and she just rolled and rolled like a mentally disturbed spaz in it. When I lifted her into the truck to go home... she was just finished and spent. Mort even moved over in the back to make room for her to lie down and sleep. She was exhausted. This will probably be the last trip out to the back forty for her. Her walks need to be short and sweet now.
When we got home we flopped out in a pile. I perused the jobs on the iPad and my dawgs dozed. Such is the life of of the Obsolete Man.
I find a lot of truth and happiness reading about your ramblings... You may be obsolete, but I'm glad I found this place. I recognize the world over here. Even if there is snow and Canukistani scenery!ReplyDelete
I enjoy your posts immensely. Your ramblings are not so different from my own. Even though geography is vastly different, your experiences and outlooks are no more than a hair's breadth from my own. I find it comforting that I am not alone in this unrecognizable world. And you aren't, either. We'll all be like Macey; we'll keep moving for as long as we can, enjoying the little nugget we find along the way. And nap time will come soon enough.ReplyDelete
"Wool gathering" I had forgotten that gem. It's so easy to be too busy being busy these days that we sometimes forget to enjoy every sandwich.ReplyDelete
I have to keep reminding Rosie on our dogwalks "Sniff all you want, but NO BITES!" And keep careful watch for that slight turn of the head just before the Stop, Drop, and Roll in something unspeakable.ReplyDelete
I keep reminding myself that what she sees, hears, and smells is so different from my perceptions that we may as well be on different planets.
It is quite clear that you give Mort and Macie the very best life a doggie could ask for.
As one piece of rusted out obsolescence to another, keep up the good work. I remember having to shorten my dog's walks.ReplyDelete
It is not a bad piece of rambling and reminiscing, Glen. In some ways, it beats the multi-tasking hell that has become the modern workplace.ReplyDelete
Well thanks again for all you stopping by, guys. I am torn between guilt and contentment. I could get used to this. Doing household chores, living in the moment with my dogs, and flipping the bird at our hellish workplaces. But part of me needs to work too. I feel better when we are saving, putting up preps and doing for ourselves.ReplyDelete
Don't entertain guilt, however ingrained into the human psyche it may be. It is a waste of energy and time.Delete