It’s a very quiet Saturday night in rural Douglas County, and I have the company of dogs.
Colby got into something nasty on his morning sojourn, so I gave him a bath late this afternoon, after the mud dried into a steady, fecid funk that caused my nose hair to curl. Yeesh!
Lucy and Freya are exercising their rites of spring by venturing a lot further off out on to our property than I care for. I worry. Freya is a scant five pounds of runt Yorkie mix, and Lucy is twice her size, and some of the predatory birds out here would look at them as a Thanksgiving meal.
(Reality: The big hawks and owls might be able to swipe Freya. My concern with Lucy are the coyotes I’ve seen around. If I have to choose between my family member and a coyote, I’m picking mine.)
It’s been a busy day around here, though, to get back on the topic. I picked up stuff for Lisa, including stuff I that had already been delivered to the house (derp!).
It’s so quiet. No kids, dogs are chilled out, and Dane (normally quiet anyway) is off to prom. Senior Prom.
Very cool.
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I’ve got dogs. I think I have low-carb chocolate ice cream. I have Netflix and some NBA playoffs.
I’m good.
Until I go to bed and find myself wishing my wife was there.
It’s always easier to sleep when she’s home.
Peace y’all.
