Watching Bugs and Rabbits

Sometimes I just like a cold, hard floor.

Outside. Inside. Outside. Inside. Couch. Floor. Bed. Carpet. Grass. Cement. Walk. Sit.

Decisions.

A dog makes decisions based on things a human could never understand. When Joan finds me lying on the tile floor in the kitchen, she asks, “Why are you lying on the cold hard floor? I paid all that money for your soft doggy bed.”

Well, obviously I can’t answer that. Sometimes, I just like the floor.

One of my favorite outdoor spots is between the grass and the cold hard cement block at the bottom of the sunroom steps. From there, I can monitor backyard activity at ground level. That means I can see all sorts of grassy goings on that would be missed from a higher perch—say at the top of the steps.

You’d be surprised at the busy bug life beneath your feet, at the way the blades of grass rub against one another and arch their backs toward the sunlight. Sometimes a rabbit makes a crazy and foolish dash across the yard to its safe house—well, safe under-house—under the shed. It’s lucky for the rabbits that Shane doesn’t like to sit here, because he’s very fast on his feet for a dog on a slimming diet.

For me, it’s not worth the effort to chase the silly rabbits. What would I do if I caught one? I'd say, "Hello, Rabbit. I like carrots, too" and then go back to my spot and lie down again.

Best wishes, Juno