And:
Because the camper doesn't destroy anything if it doesn't get its morning and evening runs, it gets the shaft. Not fair, but I like to have furniture left by the end of the day.
This is what I want to see in the morning after Dax and I have been running:
Laying in a puddle of his own drool, quietly!
This is not what I want to see:
It can mean that he's going to get on my desk to grab keys off the hooks.
In order to achieve serenity...
... there must be frenzy, twice daily and do not fail him!
Whatever I do is of the greatest interest to my little groupie. Here he is assisting me with an archaeological dig into what turned out not to be an Indian mound.
I have manage to put in quite a few hours of work by head lantern on the Scotty last week.
I scrapped off all the window putty, silicone and expanding foam off the windows in order to prep them for repair. I drove all the windows to town to the workshop that had 10 years ago fabricated windows for my 1960's horse trailer, only to be told, they don't do that anymore. Back to the drawing board!
Currently, I've disrespected her by turning her into a potting shed. I had put all my haul from Petals from the Past nursery in the carport to protect the tender tomatoes and such from frost. Guess who took off with a precious banana tree? I eventually found the mangled root and repotted it, probably an act of futility.
Sunday marked 9 months since Cole left. I've come to the conclusion that grief isn't linear, it's cyclical. You don't gradually 'get over it', instead it ebbs and flows. For the past week, the loss has been like a Nor'easter wiping me out day after day.
I'm cultivating a unique relationship with a new buddy in my life, one who has zero concept of my personal space,
one who's forcing me to run up to 8 miles a day.
yet I wouldn't trade him for the world!
But, do I ever miss my little soulmate.
