Friday, July 24, 2009

parking, wet, canned food

*When we pull up to the parking space I say, "Oh, this is my favorite space!" and she says,"Yes, I know that and everytime it's empty I park over there and save this one for you."

*When the light begins to filter into the room I am vaguely aware that he gets out of bed to take the dog out to the grass. I hear the squeaky door open, the leash jingle. Then quiet. And a thump against the bed. I drop my hand down and know that it is drizzling out because her fur is damp.

*The dog has not been eating much so I've begun putting a tablespoon of canned food into her bowl with the dry to entice her. Canned dog food is pretty gross but this morning (in an attempt to make light out of a disgusting necessity) I sleepily remark how it smells like Spam (a comfort food of childhood). From beside the table comes, "Yeah, yeah. Let's not talk about it."

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