On the possible chance, it is not painfully obvious to all of you, I have been bathed, shaved, and unceremoniously dressed in an argyle sweater with matching rubbery booties ( sort of doggie wellies if you will). To add insult to injury, I was taken to a Petco store for grooming services! A PETCO STORE!! Not even my usual private stylist! Hideous... I look completely ridiculous. My ears are all wrong, not to mention only a few days later the weather turned positively arctic, and of course there is the obvious problem of stinking of tangerines and oatmeal.
Thankfully, we travelled back to New Jersey the following weekend and I was let free to frolic on the farm. There I was able to pick up some suitable odors to mask the smell of shampoo and fruit and begin the ever arduous task of starting a new patina YET AGAIN. It is so tiresome. Grandma has installed a Febreze air freshener in our Binghamton bedroom, and the aroma of "fresh linen" is so overpowering it almost makes one light headed. Nessarose and I are doing our very best to rectify this olfactory offense with our own "horse manure" scent. One more trip home to the farm and I think we may have achieved our goal.
On the bright side, we have received an abundance of cookies. Grandma and Pop-pop are never sure if we have been sufficiently treated, so they are quick to feed us another morsel. We have even conned them once or twice into an entire extra meal, one not knowing that the other has fed us.
I am simply unable to keep up with all of my security concerns at the farm in the short hours we have to spend there on weekends. It seems we are to be spending weekends there for the immediate future, and returning to Binghamton during the week.
One day bleeds into the next, and I lose track of where we are at during the week. I confess to a certain growing restlessness with regard to our current situation. I thought this slower pace of life might suit, but a certain ennui consumes me, and I long for bright cold days at the farm from dark to dark. I can hear the crows and the hawks, the weather lately just mild enough to offer an endless supply of mud to roll in. My human is assured of a light at the end of the tunnel and an impending return to our former lifestyle. Myself I look forward to it longingly. Humans simply cannot comprehend the difficulty and shamefulness of being forced to poop at the end of a leash ( whilst clad in an argyle sweater and matching rubbery booties). It is not sustainable in the long term.
Nessarose expresses her frustrations by eating the bathroom garbage and trying to burrow into the shoes. Myself,
I sallied forth and slew a dragon. Then I feasted on its innards and took a nap.
|A well-deserved rest|