I'm a bit of a mess today. I woke up this way(I could totally make up a poem starting with these lines). I think that it's because I got 8 hours of sleep last night. It's way too much and I always seem to function best with around 6 1/2.
I am up to my ears in summer vacation madness. A nasty groundhog is leveling parts of my garden. I have to get into my hive early next week to check on my supers and a myriad of other bee things. I may have some honey to extract. This may necessitate my having to speak to people I do not know. This is probably 99% of the reason why I am a mess today. I either have selective social anxiety or a fear or speaking to other beekeepers I guess.
Brian and I were talking about dogs the other evening. I've already written about my feelings for my dog, Gus(asshole). We were talking about people who take their dogs everywhere with them. I used to do that before I had children, with my wonderful legendary dog Shaz. She died about 5 years ago. Shaz was a once in a lifetime sort of dog. A framed photo of Shaz is in my living room and her collar hangs from the rearview mirror of my car. I jingle the tags from time to time. I took Shaz everywhere because she was well behaved. She would stay out from underfoot and didn't bite or shit everywhere. I also was very mindful of others when I took her places.
The other day I went to the Farmer's Market with one of my clients and managed to trip over 3 dogs, who were sitting right in the middle of where me and probably 10 others at the time needed to be. I had an immediate urge to kick the dogs, but the urge quickly shifted to wanting to kick their owners for putting the silly dog in the way. After all, it's just a dog, who has no concept of the flow of pedestrian traffic. I have a hard time at crowded Farmer's Markets and the dogs (and people) who linger and loiter stress me out. (I realize that that is probably the point, slow food and all, but it still makes me nuts)
Back to that conversation.
Brian told me his boss was taking her dog camping in Maine. He stated that he would never want to take a dog camping. Then he stopped and said that yes, he would want to take a dog, even Gus camping, to protect him from Deliverance-like hillbillies who would like his pretty mouth. (note-Brian NEVER goes camping-he leaves me to do that with the kids-I don't bring the dog, but a basket full of weapons) I reminded Brian that although Gus would protect him from the guys, he would be as helpless as a newborn kitten if the assailants were hillbilly women coming to rape him with dildos or sticks or something. Gus would let the ladies have their way as long as he could stick his nose in their cleavage.
Brian nodded sadly, looking over at Gus who cocked his head stupidly, "I'm afraid you're probably right."
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