I think not...

Well, I should have known Brio wouldn't tolerate not being walked today. I managed to finish the tomatoes and salsa by 3:30, after hours of standing at the kitchen sink, and all I could think of was sitting down with a good book and vegging out for an hour...but no. Who can sit and relax with those laser beam eyes boring into yours and that big tongue lolling out in a doggy grin? You could see what he was thinking. It's time to go! Of course we're going! Are you ready? Ready to go? Why are you sitting? Out out out! Whee!

So we went, and the air was lovely and cool, and the sky was pearly blue and the grass was so green it hurt to look at it, and there went my amber and white dog, sailing over that expanse of green with his ears flapping and exquisite joy radiating from every hair. It's funny to hear him try to bark when his mouth is filled with a large fuzzy orange ball. He sounds like someone sneezing into a jar.

I have learned a trick to tire him out more quickly; I stand on a hill at one end of the park and throw the ball as high and far as I can. He races to get it like syrup pouring down the hill...but he has to run uphill to return the ball to me. So it wears him out faster. He collapses at last on his side, panting hard, the ball still in his mouth, and he rolls his eyes at me as if to say Just give me a minute. I'm not done yet! We sit and watch the clouds bump into each other for a moment. And then he's dropped the soggy ball at my feet and raced off again.

All in all a lovely and productive day. And there was still time to get home to that book and a bowl of cinnamon popcorn. Not chips and salsa. I've seen enough salsa for today.

                                                                       Lisandro Rota