Socks Suck

This is the first time in days I haven’t been hot at work. I’m not as cool as I am supposed to be, damn you weathermen – if it was really 72 degrees out side it wouldn’t be 78 in here. Bastards.

I even dressed for the weather. I wore pants! And stockings and shoes! Hard shoes. I’ve been wearing sandals for weeks and now. I really am not loving the sensation of all these extra layers and confining nature - it’s not that anything is is expessally tight, it’s just there and it bugs me now. I didn’t love having to shave all the time but I could learn to love it if it meant not wearing stockings. I also think I’m getting a blister, something my new sandals didn’t feel it necessary to do to me. I think my shoes are just getting even with me for having to live under the bed all this time while the new kids got to go out on “adventures”. Now I’m sitting here thinking how nice it would be to not be wearing shoes, and I’m trapped in shoes and stocking hell. It’s going to suck to go home and put on socks and shoes again to go to the park. I would wear sandals there, but it’s not a good idea. I’ve been there and done that and hanging out at the dog park is really kind of a shoes and socks required situation.

Minnie Kitty returned to the Mothership, she was elated, I didn’t notice until after she left that she had been scratching little Xs into the bed frame to mark off time. I had no idea she had a concept of time or had watched that many prison movies. Kitty celebrated by spending the evening draped over me. This was cute while I was watching TV but less fun when I tried to take a shower. He didn’t enjoy the dog park at all.

What neither cat knows is that Minnie is going to back for a return engagement in about a week.

Some of the other dog people at the park and I were talking last week and of them noted that the more comfortable it is for us out side the less comfortable it is for the dogs. All winter they ran around with abandon while we huddled in the cold and suffered. Now that it is warm, they do a couple of wind sprints and then spend the rest of the time lying in the dirt panting. One dog came up to one of the water bucks after doing his sprints and I swear to God, sighed deeply, and fell face first into the bucket. He just lay down with his paws around it and slurped away. He would drink for a while and lift his head up as to say Whew! and then face plant back into the bucket. He did this for a while and then he got up and wandered away.

The bigger dogs, sans Digger, spend their time cavorting in a baby pool. It’s real fun to watch them from a distance, walk up to the chairs where people are seated near the baby pool, and then shake all over them. Double points when they get showered by one of the long haired big dogs.

Someone commented to one of the baby pool regulars “dad’s that he should get his dog his own baby pool. He said his has his own baby pool but he doesn’t like it because he associates it with baths. The yellow labs treat the baby pool like their own personal bird bath. It beats the hell out of their previous water sport of digging in the water buckets until they either emptied the bucket or tipped it over. Everyone likes the water until it turns into mud.