Ugh! This was NOT the morning for a doggy-walk! By the time we got back — it’s only a mile around the park — my clothes were drenched in sweat. No exaggeration: just SOAKED.
Fortunately, the weather was hot enough and wet enough to keep the worst of the Dog-Loving Morons inside. We had to dodge only a few nose-to-nose encounters, and there was just one idiot out in the middle of the park with his pack of dogs off-lead, chasing around after the toys he was throwing for them. You know the type: that sign reading
DOGS MUST BE ON LEASH!
doesn’t apply to them.
This is the problem — my problem, evidently — with taking Ruby into her profoundly beloved park: People are fukkin’ STUPID.
And boy, am I tired of stupid….
So, say you with sterling common sense, why don’t you walk her someplace other than the park?
Well, I do. But y’know, she SO DEARLY loves that park! Because it has this green, grass stuff all over the ground! Ohhhhh that GRASS stuff!
Our yard is desert-landscaped — that means gravel in front and quarter-minus (finely ground gravel) in back. It’s hot, it’s hard on the feet, and it’s not something you want to roll around on or loaf around on. Most people here have desert landscaping, unless they have agricultural irrigation left over from the time when these tracts were citrus orchards. Tap water is prohibitively expensive.
Ruby has learned about the park and its grassy carpet, and that’s where she heads — like a rocket! — the instant we’re out the door.
Very cute and charming, except when it’s 110 in the shade….before the sun even comes up to make shade. No kidding: as we scribble, it’s not eight in the morning, but it’s already 84 degrees out there (feels like 87, sez Wunderground), with 31% humidity.
Welp…it’s 8:00 a.m. now, yea verily. A friend is coming over this morning…so I’d better get moving around. Onward!