Day 160

This dog stared at me outside the library with great intent, its perceptive ears tuned to my careful voice.  I think it was friendly.

Molly the crazy black dog ran off on Monday just before I had to go to school, so I left water outside and asked the neighbour to look out for her and let her in if she came back.  Sometimes she does this, although it is rare now as she is nearly ten years old. 

I speculate about where she went and what she ate, as she arrived home lame, her coat matted, and left sloppy deposits for the shocked boys in their rooms yesterday which they found upon their return from school.  (And we still love her.)

On the first lap of our run this morning, Molly lay down as she sometimes does to rest, and then she usually crosses the field when she sees me come abreast with her again on the other side.  I was all the way around and about to enter the forest road at the end of the field when I looked back to see her still lying in the shady grass.  She came running only when I called, she was that tired today.

And I am that tired right now.  I ran 3.2km this morning, through the muggy morning air, struggling over the bare earth where my path has been ploughed through.

Before we went I fed the birds.  The screechy bluejays arrive as soon as I stand next to the peanut feeder.  They are bold, and will dare one another to fly down and grab a peanut before I leave.  And eventually one does, and after this brave one there are more and more.  There is much deception and subterfuge used amongst these bluejays, in order to get food.  Sometimes they pretend they are babies and flap their wings to look pathetic, so that the adults will feed them, even though they are fully grown fledgelings, or even grown-up relatives.  They make so much noise that all the other birds and animals realise that it is feeding time and so they all converge on the site.  The little chipmunk that I named triangle is first, and managed to stuff an entire peanut into its pouch, and then looks up at me as though expecting me to laugh. 

And then I turn around to Molly, the big black bird waiting on the deck, waiting patiently for her two peanuts, which she munches down with a great deal of enjoyment, shells and all!

So tonight I am too tired to draw, so here is an image of me and my first best dog Timmy, my loyal companion, my hero.  Timmy, killer of cats, Timmy of the impossibly large bladder, who had the record out of all the dogs in the neighbourhood for the most pees in one block, Timmy of the good heart, the great soul, who chose us one day, following my sister home from school, leaving his life of running behind a donkey-drawn vegetable cart.  Timmy who loved us.  Timmy whom I loved with that deep first love you have for a dog when you are a child.  Timmy of the long and happy life.