It's not as though it's good garbage.We finally got a ride in the car after two weeks of mournful deprivation. It wasn’t a long ride, but it was cool. That feeling when the wind brushes our faces makes me and Shane feel like we’re almost flying. Not that I want to fly—it would be a little unnerving to be buzzing around over the rooftops. What would people think?
Wait, I’ve changed my mind. If we could fly, we could check out the backyards where dogs live and maybe drop in—hee-hee—for a nice visit, especially now that so many neighbors are living behind plastic privacy fences. There are so many friends we don’t get to see anymore.
Anyway, the ride kind of lulled us, so when we got home, I really wasn’t in the mood for a walk. But, Joan insisted. The truth is, she wanted to take pictures of the local street garbage for her next blog entry. (Yes, she writes a blog just like I do. Humans. So cute.) Now that people live behind fences, there’s more garbage than ever. I wouldn’t mind if it were edible, but it’s usually just paper and lots of unmentionables. We didn’t get too far before I sat down next to a bag of MacDonald trash to protest. I mean, if we’re going to walk, let’s walk.
When we got home, I sat undisturbed in the yard and watched a few cars pass by, but then I got lonely and went inside to spend some quality family time with Shane and Joan. We don’t say a lot, but we feel the love.
Best wishes, Juno
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