In Which Our Heroine Is Profoundly Grateful for Smart Dogs

24 July 2005

It makes such a huge difference in morale when all members of a household are doing their best not to urinate on the floors. Really, it was a point I had previously taken for granted, but it does wonders for the psyche to have this basic concept communicated.

Last year we didn't get a real Minnesota August. This year we're getting two. Last year I could stay inside whenever I wanted to, more or less, taking the air-conditioned car around. This year I have a puppy to take outside every couple of hours and a puppy to take on walks so she doesn't go nuts with puppy energy and take the rest of the household with her. It could be worse; we could live somewhere that isn't Minnesota. This would be worse both climatologically and for my sanity: when we go outside and it's hot and humid, it's not as hot and humid as it could be, and also: it's Minnesota. Which I like better hot and humid than I like anywhere else breezy and pleasant, so.

I begin to understand why some people blog on behalf of their pets. Living with the monkeys has to be a very strange thing for non-monkey species. We are so filled with strange rules. No removing things from the baskets of interesting smells and running off with them. No biting the little monkeys' ears. No sniffing the monkeys' butts with friendly enthusiasm. So many rules! (Some people I've run into refer to themselves as "the bald monkeys" where their pets are concerned, but I'm afraid that's vastly inappropriate in this case: we have shed a good bit more hair on her than she on us.)

I'm currently reading DDB's copy of Walter Jon Williams's The Crown Jewels, and it is, as promised or threatened, not at all like the other WJW novels I've tried. I'm doing mentally/emotionally better now that I'm getting more reading in, which is good; we'll see if we can get the physical to follow, one way or another.

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