The trickle-down effect of the fire last month is finally winding down here in my little home office. Books to read, books to review, a book I just wrote, all are thisclose to finally being finished. Which is very good news for two black dogs who are very peeved, out of patience, utterly exhausted by boredom.
It's a rough life being a dog here in Paradise Cove. Jump on the bed at dawn and gently pant, rocking the mattress until She finally stirs. Open wide the moist dark eyes, which say "I woke you? Moi? Oh dear." Then there's the morning walk, where trails of scent and piles of scat await the magnificent miracle that is the canine nose, but no, She needs to shoot the sunrise. Again.
So here they lie, this tormented twosome, silently suffering. They're barely able to move a muscle, a nostril, even an eyelash. They are bogged down by ennui. (And by the ten pounds of expensive cat food they just ripped from the bag, scattered over the floor and promptly devoured.)
Jake and Maisie on the deck.