He Cleans Up Well

"What IS it?" you ask. All two of you, and sometimes three, like that "Y" vowel thing. "Is it a GAMBLING BLOG, or a DOG BLOG? Pick a theme and stick with it!"

Sorry. Can't do that. I'm as flighty as a flibbertigibbet. I'll choose my topic at the last minute, from the last thought in my head when the New Post page loads.

See this sweet little face...

Looks can be deceiving.

Last night, I went out to walk around 8:15. The sun had just set, and the temperature was down to around 74, with a slight breeze. It was the perfect atmosphere for hiking to the end of the driveway to pull the big green dumpster back down to the carport. On the way back, I could gaze at the moon rising behind the house. Well. I COULD. But I didn't, because I have to spend every second watching the uneven gravel under my feet, lest I trip and break a hip or brittle bone. At least I won't bleed to death, now that I'm off that demon Xarelto.

Juno came out of her house all excited. She LOVES dumpster day(s). Whether I'm pulling it up to the road, or returning it to the house, she romps along and barks like a fool. I guess to her, clunking those dumpster wheels along the gravel is my version of Farmer H's Gator. She goes nuts the minute he starts it up.

Jack and Copper the neighbor dog did their usual wrestling. Jack knows his place. He understands that he's a tiny thing, and most often when Copper turns on him, he crouches in the grass and ducks his head, like he doesn't want to be noticed. Copper tromps all over him, playfully snapping and growling until Jack has had enough. Which is signaled by a yelp, and then a ferocious growl by Jack (he ain't playin'!) and a bit of tooth-gnashing while Copper skitters away.

Jack tries to stay between me and Copper, but Copper taunts him by making mad dashes at my legs. He keeps going, with Jack in pursuit, but when near me, Jack stands up on his hind legs and dances along for a minute, on the chance that I'll pat his head or snout. If I'm at a smooth stretch of driveway, I will.

Last night it was nearly dark when I finished my six laps. I was stretching at the side porch steps when Jack ran up wagging his tail. I had seen the whole walk time that Jack was dirty. He just is. He was kind of wet when I started. A darker color in some spots. I figured he'd been swimming. It was really hot before the sun went down. As I was stretching, I reached over to pat Jack. Figuring he was probably drying out. But he was wet.

"Huh. I guess maybe the dew is starting to settle. The grass must have been wet. Or that's Copper's saliva all over Jack's back."

I leaned over for a little hug before heading in to get the snacks for Jack and Juno. PHEW! Jack stunk really, REALLY bad! As I sat on the front porch pew watching him eat, it dawned on me that he must have been rolling in something dead. Something dead and jelly-like. That the stiff and sticky fur was due to some kind of dried blood or juices of decay. It was as if Jack had crawled inside a carcass and soaked up the seeping fluids like a sponge. Yes. I mentioned before how Jack's fur is like a sponge.

When I went back in the Mansion, I told Farmer H, "Jack has been rolling on something dead. He STINKS!"

"Yeah, I know. He went for a swim up at HOS's creek, but then he must of got in something. Because he was filthy, and he stunk."

Today, Jack looked reasonable clean. I didn't put my nose on him and take a whiff, but I did not notice a foul odor emanating from him like dust clouds from PigPen. I guess he went for another swim.