"Easy, Baby Girl! Those are the headlines of our day."
White Dog is not a huge vegetable eater. She eats what is chopped up in her meals if the green things are small enough that she cannot pick them out or she will share my veggies that are sauced or buttered. But just to nom vegetables, not her.
The rest of the White Dog Army are all veggie fiends. I have to cut extras when slicing salad ingredients so that I can share. Tonight I was preparing asparagus for tomorrow's opera picnic. Before, in the days before our pack of green gourmands, I would save the ends snapped from each stalk and use them to make stock for my favorite soup. Tonight, As I snapped a thin delicious stem, I had a White Dog waiting, mouth open, to receive the rejected end. There was a continuous cycle of White Dogs coming up and then leaving holding a green stick...and before I knew it the asparagus were ready for cooking sans soup making extras.
It is monsoon season here in Albuquerque. Late afternoons after a hot day the storm clouds build up and dump rain or worse on us for a couple of hours. Then things clear up, col off, and the night is spectacular. As evening approached monstrous black clouds covered the sky making every member of the WDA a bit restless and when the thunder boomed so loudly the house shook, the office was instantly packed with a very uneasy pack huddling against me and trying to be brave.
Soft words and the gentle music on Enya were drowned by the storm's noise so we chose music we could play loud and howl along to as a distraction. There s comfort to be found in focusing on singing and in the community of voices joined.
As nature's rage calmed we switched to more soothing tunes and oldies. The White Dog Army refound its balance and settled down, still all together, to nap (drained from the energy expended in nervousness). CA Stormer stayed pressed against my barefoot and listened to more music.
He and I have been searching for just the perfect song to be "his;" each member of the White Dog Army has one. Neil Young began singing "Old Man take a look at my life..." and Stormer perked up. He looked at me and wagged then licked my foot (his special way of expressing happiness).
"What do you think, Bud?" I asked him. "This is a good song isn't it?" His response seemed to say it was better than good, it was the choice we had been seeking. We played it a second time with more scrutiny, just to be sure. He was and I had to agree it fit him perfectly.
1 comment:
We smiled at our mind's image of the asparagus line-up. :)
Stormer, we think that song is perfect for you!
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