In which I keep it brief, for reasons that will become clear

I'm writing from another house-sitting place, one I call the Magic Cottage for its whimsical old-fashioned gardens and quaint architecture. OK, I didn't make up the name, one of my friends did, but the Magic Cottage it is, and here I am, writing from it.

It's the home of Orange Kat and two matching, bouncy Scotties. I take all three of them on walks around the neighborhood so the dogs can abandon their joviality to bark at every larger dog we pass, and the kat can pretend she doesn't know us. She races ahead, hides in the weeds, and then waits until we pass only to start the whole procedure again. If we walk too quickly, she yowls loudly until we turn around and go back for her.

So, a short time ago, I was in the back yard playing catch with the Scotties when their attention was diverted to the trellis over the driveway, covered by a canopy of leafy wisteria. They barked up at the leaves until I went to investigate and found Orange Kat perched on a support beam. She is a very sweet cat, but she has large, yellow eyes and a baleful expression that made the experience of being observed by her from on high a little eerie.

Orange Kat crept around in the branches, and I had just turned to quiet the Scotties when I felt a shower of objects hitting me, and heard a distinct choking sound. Orange Kat had barfed on my head from a height of maybe eight feet. It wasn't a lot of barf, but in my experience, any amount of barf is too much, especially when it is on one's head, and emanating from an outside source.

I am happy to report that the cupboard is plentiful with dog shampoo.

I'd write more, but I have to go wash my hair.



Star of the day. . .Jose Eber
posted @ 1:48 p.m. on August 25, 2007 before | after

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She lay awake all night,

zzzzzzzzzzz......