Downtown, Cottage Grove

I like this division of labor: L. makes a delicious dinner; I eat taco chips and provide moral support. L. washes the dishes; I take the dogs for a walk. Truth is, I’m actually taking myself for a walk and the dogs get to come. Win-win. Spring is really taking hold and the tighter chill has gone from the night air. We circled by the house on the corner with nothing but studs for walls inside, around by the little park next to the busy street, and back in time to go to the pub to announce The Big News. That was exciting but nothing like the thrill of going home afterward to watch our Vote for the Worst favorite hack her way through her performance, charming and purty all the while.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Downtown, Cottage Grove

The fog was so dense and the morning so dark that I shelved my plans for a pre-Inaugural run and instead settled into the couch with multiple cups of tea, Jones tucked into my hip, and all the inane color commentary on CNN. Afterwards it was lighter and time for our version of a parade and my own dumb chatter, all variations on It’s just so amazing I’m just so excited. 

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Downtown, Cottage Grove

Jones was Very Bad and took advantage of the leeway offered by the holes under the fence to chase a cat down and across the street. Ramona did as she was told and waited patiently on the porch while L. and I raced away to catch him before disaster did. Jones must have lost the trail as he skittered around the corner by the mortuary because he snapped out of his hunting catatonia and meekly allowed himself to be leashed. I considered dog makeovers as we extended the usual loop through unfamiliar streets, planning and making lists and estimating costs and projecting timelines. The bathroom remodel may actually happen, thanks to the aforementioned aesthetic motivation and friends who actually know how to tear down bad things and rebuild them better and prettier.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Municipal Golf Course, Cottage Grove

You think, what should I accomplish today? You reply, this. 

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Downtown, Cottage Grove

One thrives in one’s dynamic and glamorous life as a scholar-researcher-teacher, but the effort to sustain smarts in so many ways for so many days sent me into the vulgar embrace of cheap wine and season 8 of American Idol. I am grateful to L. for adding many things to my life, including a deep appreciation for earplugs, flea markets, aesthetic go-get-’em, the vocal stylings of Lee Hazlewood on vinyl, Ramona, and Tivo and the trash TV recorded therein. After the wreckage cleared, the dogs still needed walking. With my disproportionate attention to the wine, I definitely risked a DUI (dogwalking under the influence), but they seemed to sense my vulnerability and behaved as if we were being followed by our own reality TV production team.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Downtown, Cottage Grove

I bet the river in Adenville looked like this on that day when the Great Brain decided the extra 30¢ was worth the risk to take one more trip on the raft. The older boys jumped off and swam ashore in time when they saw the wall of water, mud and debris coming, but Jimmy Peterson and Howard Kay were too young and scared to move. Despite his money-loving heart, Tom was a good guy and did his best to save them all from drowning, but they almost perished in the flash flood. Fortunately no dogs were on board, but that’s not surprising since they wouldn’t have been able to pay the nickel fare.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Downtown, Cottage Grove

It’s nice to have the team all together again, bouncing on the swing bridge over the swollen river, striding around the corner of Main Street like some intro montage for this season’s wackiest new detective show:  K-9 Kops: Unleashed. There was even sunshine.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Downtown, Cottage Grove

My informal resolution for 2008 was to never let Jones be a guest contributor for the doglog. Despite his charming personality and good looks, I just don’t think it’s appropriate. After all, dogs can’t talk, much less write in anything other than doggerel (thanks, I’ll be here all week!). I do wish he would explain why he refused to go running with L. this afternoon. The rain? The coat that rubs his armpits the wrong way? Whatever the reason, after a few steps he simply sat down on the sidewalk turned in the direction of the house. I didn’t give in so easily later when I took him and Ramona out for a forced march, coat, rain and all.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Downtown, Cottage Grove

We woke up to no electricity, which was ironic since the storm of the century failed to deliver at this end of the Willamette Valley. The utility guys were just working on the power lines until noon. Fortified by cups of tea thanks to the gas stove (xoxo), I took the dogs out on streets devoid of snow and downed branches to pass some time before I could have toast. This was the first time walking two dogs together since I started the new regimen with Jones, and I struggled to stay in charge. Instead of a pack leader with her subordinates, we were more of a collective headed by an ambivalent discussion leader elected for the day. Ramona’s a big girl and not used to receiving discipline from me, and Jones wasn’t coming to heel because gosh darn it Ramona didn’t have to. This is why I’ll never succeed in management.

Cat poop consumed: yes

 

Downtown, Cottage Grove

Choirs of Christmas angels illuminated with a thousand candles singing holy holy with banjos and banana bread. A flock of new lambs suckling mutton in alleyways. A rattling chain on a cement block stolen from a phantom Winnebago with Florida plates. Pink milkshakes drawn in chalk on the cracked sidewalk. A river of true sentences tumbling over themselves and piling up under the covered bridge. Slices of cheese left out in the rain. A trumpet calling all the children home.

None of these things happened on the walk today.

Cat poop consumed: no