It’s a little after 8 a.m. and the sun is a glowing white orb in the dense fog that blankets Crowley’s Ridge.
You can hear the dew as it drops from the trees and hits the leaves covering the backyard.
Jack the Aussie pup was ready to be up at 6:45, so I obliged him, letting Maria sleep. She worked the late shift last night and got home about 1:15 a.m. I have orders to wake her at 9 a.m. Consequently, I decided to forgo my usual mocha cappuccino and the steamy racket that goes with preparing it, in favor of a pot of Starbucks Italian Roast coffee, poured into my favorite cup – a 1940s Wallace China Westward Ho Rodeo Pattern. It’s big, clunky, restaurant quality stuff and it reminds me of the time my parents took me to Yellowstone National Park in the summer of 1955.
Jack continues to impress us with his eagerness to climb a very steep learning curve. He mastered the dog door less than 72 hours after he arrived. He loves to play fetch with a tennis ball. He’s exploring the far corners of the fenced-in backyard. And he knows the coyotes howling beyond the fence are bad news.
However, he still thinks it’s OK to poop on the back porch, so my to-do list for today includes cleaning up Jack shit.
My Swedish motorcycle suit arrived late Wednesday and is a big disappointment. It’s too small – the cuff on the right sleeve of the liner is to small that I can’t get my hand through it. And seen up close, it’s not all that exotic and cool. It’s just odd. So back it goes into the box it came in and I’ll haul it down to the UPS Store to ship it back.
Thanksgiving was just another day for us, having no family within 450 miles. The only familial contact I had was when Sean called from Santa Rosa, Calif. where he and Ruth are visiting Ruth’s sister. It was great to hear their voices.
Maria went to work at 4 p.m., which left me and Pete and Jack to hang out. Jack is getting more and more outdoors time – probably more than he’s ever had – and when he’s in the house unsupervised he’s in Ruthie’s old kennel, strategically placed where he can see a human and not feel abandoned. I’m not inclined to take any chances with our recently shampooed carpets until he starts to catch on that the backyard is his toilet.
Pete’s puppy cuteness saved his life many times when he gnawed a tassel off of one of my best casual loafers and chewed everything he could get his teeth into. The Cuteness Card is working now for Jack as we await his next bit of mischief. He has happily commandeered all of the dog toys and is especially fond of the Friendly Fox (as seen on TV).
Just for the record, I have no plans to do any Black Friday shopping beyond things we urgently need, like trash bags and a gallon of milk.
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