Mondays

Kootenay dug a hole today.
This was not the normal bury your tennis ball hole. This was a deep, my owner is not paying attention to me hole. A nice South Carolina couple and I chatted about pets, travel, life and vinho verde. They rescued greyhounds and the husband carried dog treats with him when he travelled so he would not feel far from his pets.
Elderly American tourists are starting to appear with regularity here. When they ask me where I am from and I say Vancouver Canada a surprising number of them have been there. And they often feel the need to tell me how they really liked the city. Despite the homeless and drug (they whisper pot) problems the add. Friends and family would be proud of my restraint. I have, so far, managed to bite back my thoughts about the tulmult their current government has thrust upon the rest of the world.
Kootenay took my inattention as an opportunity to dig a hole big enough to fit a 50-pound dog or an eight year old in. When this couple and I looked up from our conversation all we could see of Koot were her hind legs and tail. The tail was wagging with abandon like a flag on a child’s sandcastle. The joy she personifies when allowed to dig with abandon was palpable. When I called her to us she backed up out of the hole with the remains of her ball in her mouth. What was left of the tennis ball managed to look like someone had painted a bright yellow smile on her furry face.
How will I ever go back to working?