Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Rain Day



It’s raining again. I’m entertaining the dog by hiding her red ball around the house so that she has to find it. Once found, she lays there blissfully chewing on it. It’s made of the same material as those Crocs, so her gnawing emits a loud, rubbery sound. She has a look like she’s just done a hit of ‘the good stuff’.

Kiwi is beside me on the couch. He’s an affectionate cat in that he has to be near all of us. He runs to greet us when we come home and comes to his name. But he’s not one for a lot of cuddling. He sleeps with us, but at the end of the bed.

One of his favorite things is sitting on top of the fridge, watching Trevor cook. Trevor says he’s gathering information for his great escape, in which knives will be used. Kiwi goes outside whenever he wants, so I hardly think this is realistic.

This has been a big year for him. He got lost in the neighbour’s basement. He had a chunk ripped out of his ear in a fight. And the other morning he came home covered in shit. Not shit as in ‘stuff’, actual shit. Species unidentifiable.

Charlie’s ball just rolled silently across the room and came to a stop. She’s gazing at it as though she’s too stoned to go after it, she will simply appreciate its stunning beauty from afar.

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