July 29, 2011
Placid and self contain'd?
I love Walt Whitman but have felt the need to take him to task on more than one occasion for the poem he wrote about wanting to go and live with the animals, which were supposed to be placid and all that.
Which animals, Bub? Not the ones around here.
I had a feeling that yesterday was going to be a bad animal day early on as I put on my shorts to walk the dogs and felt a sharp pain in my nether regions. It turns out a wasp thought that was a good place to hang out. That was before coffee...
That night's walk was even worse when Arpad, our 140 pound Great Pyr went after something in the dark and the other dogs joined in pursuit, pulling me down in a pretty nasty fall and twisting my already messed up knee. I wasn't sure what he was going after, but there's no stopping him when he's on the warpath. His prey turned out to be a raccoon, a legitimate prize.
After all that, the goats wouldn't come to the barn and I had to limp up the hill after them.
I should have probably gone back to bed after the wasp. Not sure how Walt would have done.