Dirt Doesn't Need Luck

Today is my last day off for a while. Well, jut for a few weeks. So that's not too bad. Plus, I have the first 18 days of Feb. off. I must say, no really, I must, that it was good to have some extended time off at home. I did a lot of stuff around the yard that needed doing, plus had a good half dozen nights out sitting around a fire, plus did a whole bunch of nothing!!

We were lucky enough to have warmer than usual weather, with the temps being in the low 80s most days, and 70s at night. Real pleasant. Today and tomorrow we are supposed to drop into the 50s during the day and 34 tonight, 29 tomorrow night. Yowser!! Not looking forward to that. Spent this morning winterizing the papaya and mango trees, and bringing the violets and staghorn fern into the shed.

Another big event this holiday season was the re-establishment of household policy. I have always had a fair idea of what constitutes proper order. You know, who's giant recliner it is (mine) and what rooms dog peeing is allowed in (none of them). In other words, I reset the notion of acceptable levels of dog behavior. A stern tone and nose thump works wonders for getting a point across.

Ramblin' made me laugh, though. As a dog, he really tries to learn the rules. He's just a tad slow, his thoughts moving along like half speed cartoon scenes. Which just reminded me of how amusing I always found the "Slow Children At Play" signs.

He was busy playing at a high level of intensity, which mostly involves running in circles around me as I walk and yipping with glee. Not a real complicated game, especially my part of it, but he never seems to tire of it.

We were a couple of minutes into the latest round (no pun intended) when he paused just long enough to pee in the living room. Then he immediately went back to running around me like some noisy, idiot shark dog. I rubbed his nose (almost) in it and scolded him but good. Then dragged him by the collar to the door and tossed him out for a few minutes, fussing at him all the way.

Later in the afternoon, same bat dog, same bat game, he paused near the kitchen to pee. I scolded, rubbed his nose, and as I went to grab his collar and haul him out, he got the most quizzical look on his face. He looked up at me, then looked back in the living room where I scolded him last time, and kinda went, "What the heck, dude?" Then, you could almost see the light come on. "Oh, I see. No peeing in the house anywhere. Got it."

As Josef Stalin supposedly said, "It's not who votes that counts. It's who counts the votes."

Only one skull short of a Mouseketeer reunion, out

Ramblin' Ed