The heavens just opened up with thunder rumbling, mumbling, grumbling. Little Harley dog looks so unhappy. He hates the rain. Poor doggy.
On a fun note, this weekend we had our information booth set up outside on the patio that came with the camping lot where I workamp. A friend of mine I had not seen in ages, drove down to visit. We were sitting outside. A man in a golf cart stopped by with questions. I invited him to sit a spell. Harley was flirting with him because he just loves golf carts. Eventually while the adults were chatting, Harley went over to play in the golf cart. He got in the floorboard carrying his tennis ball. Then he tried out the front seats, settling on the driver's seat.
We are on a hill. Harley has thrown his tennis ball down the hill many times. Then he cries like a baby because his tethering system won't allow him to run free. Typically it rolls down the driveway, across the road, down the long length of the sloped boat trailer parking lot, then sometimes it rests on the grassy lot to the side of that and other times it simply lands in the lake, never to be seen again. Harley can cry like a baby until I leash him up to go for a walk to find his tennis ball or golf ball or whatever he has lost next.
Today, I was laughing, telling the golf cart owner how much Harley loves golf carts. See? He has moved right in, tennis ball and all. About that time, as if on cue, Harley threw his tennis ball down the hill. His tether wouldn't reach beyond the golf cart, so he sat there in the front seat, crying like a hungry baby. This prompted the owner to hop in the cart to zip down the hill for the tennis ball, which was incredibly nice of him.
But Harley didn't get to ride. I know that's what he really wanted, was a ride in the golf cart. But when the man came back with his tennis ball he was ecstatic. He wanted to play fetch next and show off his tricks. He is such a clown to have around, he makes me laugh.
When I have company, Harley likes to sit in a chair and visit with us too.
Does he know he is a dog? When should I tell him? Do you think he will be devastated when he finds out he is adopted?
Living on boats and far flung islands, one learns a good bit of creative recycling. Years back, I was in an apartment on a tiny island that had screens over some of the windows. One day a big gust of wind blew in so stiff, that it knocked the screens right out of the windows. The little plastic doodahs that held the screen in place, simply broke off. They were now useless. No way to hang the screens back up. Local hardware stores were a joke and not local at all. The closest one was about an hour away and not likely to have anything near as handy as screen clips.
Another sailor was visiting me. We scratched our heads, then he dug in the garbage, finding some beer caps he had discarded. He knocked a hole in each cap, then used the retaining screws that had previously held the plastic doodahs to attach the beer bottle caps. Now the window screens were back in place. We laughed about our ingenuity.
Once in awhile someone would ask me why beer bottle caps were on my window frames. Others would look it over, then claim they were going home to fix their screens with bottle caps too. The caps worked so well, they were still holding the screens in place when I moved out years later.
A wasp stung me the other day. I flushed my hand with copious amount of water. I thought since nothing bad happened in the next hour I was fine. Well late in the night, when I became ill, I found out through internet research that wasp stings can have lots of yucky effects:
Systemic symptoms can include nausea, vomiting, abdominal cramping, and diarrhea due to mast cell activation in the GI tract. Coughing, dyspnea, and wheezing can occur after mast cell activation in the airway.
It was a scary night, but *WHEW* I survived.