Blinkies

Fips was ferociously snuggly this morning. At about 4 am he moved from my thigh area and restlessly began poking and hugging my side. Then he climbed on to the pillow and nudged my face. Eventually, he snuggled into my arm pit, resting his head on my shoulder and then on my chest.

Meanwhile, Rosco go the notion too. What was it, doggie-pathy? At any rate he moved up from my left leg and snuggled into my left side under my arm. So there I lay with left and right arms draped around warm fuzzy bodies hugging into me and Fips’ chin resting on my chest.

I derived as much enfolding comfort from the doggies as they did from me, and the three of us snoozed in late snuggling in animal warmth.

When we got up it was a crisp, bright late Fall day. The doggies could sense that the rains had stopped and by 11.oo o'clock were wrestless and champing to go out.

Once outside, Rosco headed down the side of the barn, but Fipsie started his hemming and hawing routine in the courtyard. Eventually he made up his mind, brought up the rear and then began to run along the raised riding circuit before heading back down toward the house.

A couple of hours later, I got ready to take the truck to the garage to have its misbehaving tire fixed yet again. The dogs were alert to the prospects and started their "out-dance," to-ing and fro-ing around the house. I lifted them into the truck. Rosco climbed up onto the doggie lounger and Fips lifted himself to look out the window.

After the tire was put onto a new wheel, I headed over to the township's large playing fields. It was still bright and clear and I thought the dogs would like padding about on smooth grass. But when we got there, I noticed an "Animal Protection" vehicle parked in the lot. "Protection, my ass," I thought. Here, as much as anywhere, the State's offer of "protection" means nothing but trouble. The dogs had been eager to put paw to ground, but I turned around and drove down to AlderMountin instead.

Once there, Rosco chased over to the trail we had walked the other day. Fips followed in pokey fashion. Once on the trail, Fips picked up steam, following after me as I followed Rosco in the lead. Once again, at a bend in the trail, Fips lost his bearings. I looked back and saw him staring off to the side, so I stepped into his line of vision and called after him. Fips turned toward my voice and scampered toward me. I petted him as he ran by and watched him as he ran ahead.

All of a sudden, Fips veered off the trail and started running down a slope into the ravine, as I yelled after him to stop. But he kept on going, jumping over a fallen branch before himself falling into a depression and crashing into a jumble of twigs and dead leaves. Fortunately the slope at this point was not steep and Fips had a more or less gentle crash landing. He seemed dazed, as if wondering why this had happened. I picked him up and placed back on the road, where he continued walking quite normally.

We followed the path longer than the previous outing. It did decline, but I calculated that it might not be too much of a trudge up for Fips. It wasn't. Rosco wanted to forge on, and if it were just him I would have but, at this point, we'll have to explore the trail bit by bit.

When we returned home, I found to red-light blinkies taped to the front door. I have been meaning to follow up on the landlady's suggestion to get a blinker or flashing collar so I could see the pals in the dark, but I hadn't gotten around to it. So tonight, the dogs' got their blinkies hooked onto their collars.

They really do work... as dark fuzzies got lost in murky shadows of green and black and brown, a little blinking red light can be seen bouncing here and there in the dark. The doggies sniff edhere and there around the barn as off in the shadows by the fence under the soft glow of a full moon a mama-cow licked her calf.
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