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Kirby

My husband took one of his week-long motorcycle trips with a couple of buddies last week. When he returned on Friday we hurriedly ate dinner and did the dishes because we were going to see "Evita" at the Fox Theatre that night. He took the dog out for a short walk before we left, and when he came back I noticed that he was pulling oddly on the dog's leash by the back steps. When I took a closer look I couldn't believe my eyes. Dangling from Kirby's collar was a dead squirrel. Oops! I forgot to warn Jim that there was a squirrel carcass in the driveway of our neighbor. It had been there over a week and they had not bothered to pick it up. I knew to cross the street before getting to that point because of course the dog immediately goes to anything that smells disgusting. But in the dark Jim did not see trouble up ahead. How in the world the thing got tangled in the dog's collar is a mystery. I imagine he rolled around on it.

So, how to get the squirrel off the collar without getting the dog worked up about it? I grabbed a broom (my good one, unfortunately) and swatted the squirrel with it. That worked, and gave me a whole new meaning to the term "flying squirrel". We then pulled the dog into the house, and oh my! The smell! It was all over the dog's face and neck, his collar, his leash, and my broom. We did a quick job of washing Kirby's face and leash, and I threw his collar in a cup with some detergent. The broom is still outside. It may not be salvageable. The dog's bath had to wait until after the play, so one can only imagine what else he rubbed himself on in the house while we were gone. Yuck! It is a good thing he is so cute, that is all I am going to say.

The Missouri Botanical Garden fountain

Jim and I took a nice long walk at the Missouri Botanical Garden this morning, cameras in hand. This is my favorite time of year as the trees explode in shades of yellow, red and orange. Surprisingly the garden was not too crowded, even when we left for home around noon. Everyone must have been over at the zoo or something. Too bad for them, as we had the garden mostly to ourselves.

I love that the garden has their main fountain dyed red in support of the St. Louis Cardinals. The fountain definitely rivaled the trees in terms of bright red! We were entertained by a bird having a quick bath in one of the fountains. I imagined him laughing at the other birds as they took a drink from the same place he had been bathing!

Bird bath

Splish splash I was takin' a bath

Japanese Garden

my home gym

A neighbor of mine works out at the same facility as me, and he is very proud of the fact that he has lost 66 pounds over the course of a year. He said that he modified his diet some, but mostly it is due to the fact that he walks on the treadmill 30 minutes a day. I am happy for him that he has lost the weight, but here is the thing. Every time I see him he asks me if I have been to the gym that day, and proceeds to tell me that I need to be going 7 days a week. Now, I did not ask for his opinion, nor do I want it. Who is he to imply that I am so heavy that I need to work out 7 days per week?

Yesterday I was walking the dog and he was driving by in his car. He rolled down his window and true to form, inquired as to whether or not I had worked out that day. Indeed I had my butt kicked by my small group trainer that morning, so I answered in the affirmative. In fact, I told him, I have been going to the gym 4 days a week in addition to walking the dog every day. Was that enough for him? Oh, no..."You need to be on the treadmill seven days a week Kim!"

Where does this guy get off? And how can I politely tell him to shove off?

Love thy neighbor as thyself, but choose your neighborhood.
-- Louise Beal

Our dog has finally figured out the the mailman comes bearing more than the mail. He also (usually) has dog treats. Now whenever I take Kirby out for our after lunch walk, he scouts around for the mailman. He knows that our particular mailman parks his truck around the corner from our house. So the first thing we have to do is check it out to see if the mailman is still in the truck. Sometimes we can catch him there eating his lunch. Other times he is taking a break, perhaps listening to a little of the Cardinals game. So Kirby gets up in his hind legs and bounces along like a dancing dog to see if he can spy the mailman. If that doesn't pan out, he carefully looks up and down the street, searching for the blue uniform carrying a bag. If Kirby sees him, he pulls me down the street like a sled dog until we catch up. The gagging noise coming from his throat alerts the mailman that stalker dog is hot on his tail. It is a game we play every day. The mailman seems to get a kick out of him, maybe since Kirby never barks at him or tries to bite him, and he always takes the dog treat very politely.

Yesterday after he scored a biscuit from the mailman, we continued on our walk. As we worked our way back to the house, Kirby spotted a second mail truck. Oh how I wish I could have taken a picture to capture the look of disbelief on his face! Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! I got my speed walking in for a second time that day. This time he was rewarded with a beef flavored treat and he certainly savored it.

Later in the evening he found an even bigger treat in the backyard. Somehow he captured a smaller bunny, which he proudly brought up to the back door to show me. He seems somewhat like a cat that way. No amount of cajoling would convince him to drop the rabbit, which was dead fortunately. I imagine that the neighbor's cat or one of the local owls killed it because Kirby is not fast enough to catch a bunny. We had to practice our distract and ignore maneuvers until he finally let it go long enough for Jim to bag it and throw it away. You know, we are always chasing the rabbits out of our yard so that they don't destroy our gardens. Kirby probably thought he was helping us out. Yuck!