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Beyond the Valley of Runway Monday

August 5th, 2008 (10:34 pm)

current mood: tired

I think I've gotten over the tragic failure of my design to have the judges praising my name in the streets and bearing me on a litter to a celebrity-packed event in my honor. I'm strong that way.

I took Rexford out for a visit to Green Acres Monday night. He was supposed to stay, but it didn't work out. His old pal Sue seemed a little cranky, and after his visit to the vet, Rex was in no mood for nonsense from anyone. Tim thought it might be best if Rex returned to The Compound to give Margot more material for her emo poetry ("The smiling dog is back...fool...I suffer...") and Guinness someone to bump against and wail, "He started it! He DID!"

The dogs all got a clean bill of health. The vet said not to be overly concerned with their weight or their numbers on various tests, as all that can fluctuate on a raw diet, and the dogs all appear to be doing well. This, probably more than anything, annoyed Rex, because he keeps looking back at his ribs, then at us, to indicate that more oatmeal would be mighty fine. Mighty fine now. No, RIGHT now.

EZ and I are getting along well in the TimLair. Unlike the neurotics who stay with Tom at night, EZ's personality fits her name. Everything is just okay with her. Feed me now, feed me later, I'm good. Walk me now, walk me later, or just keep trying to find us an America's Next Top Model marathon to watch--all is well.

Except then the rains came. I woke up...well, on Tim's schedule...and looked at EZ. Her eyes were inscrutable. Or maybe floating. So I took her out. Twice. The only thing that accomplished was to get me drenched. Lindsey called after the second attempt and brought over mocha frappuccinos for us to celebrate both her recent accomplishments in the art world and the hope that a single blade of grass in my yard might stay green because of Tropical Storm Edouard. Then, in the finest act of friendship ever, when the rain stopped, she took EZ for a walk, whereupon the dog finally let nature take its course.

If only I could develop the bodily functions of dogs into a full-length novel, I'd be gold.


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