Driving through streams of sun and shade. The leaves are changing colors along with the bruises on my legs. I am dog sitting for our neighbors and it is exercising my God given authority. They’re too good at protecting their domain. To them, I am just a stranger.
…
The sky is gray and raining. The wind forces the rain down in droves. Water ripples in waves along the asphalt. My body aches from being pulled around by a bulldog. I use all my might trying to control that little stocky girl.
While walking Lucky this morning, there was but a sprinkle of rain. The wind barreled through the neighborhood and shook the water from a nearby tree. It all rained down at once like a giant shower on the side of the road. Perhaps the lighting had something to do with it, for it was a glorious sight to behold.
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Walking Lucky is more of a jog than a “walk.” She runs like a sled dog carrying a freight train instead of 120 pounds of woman.
There is a round bruise on my upper left arm from the leash I wrap around there. Two hands grip tightly on the rope in case another dog, animal, or person catches her attention. But it’s the pinecones that send her in a frenzy. She runs after them frantically searching for the perfect one. I’ve tried taking them from her mouth, but it is a battle I have not yet won.
Tonight, I swept remnants of pinecone scattered across the living room floor.
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Like a leaky faucet, Lucky’s mouth constantly drips. Often unknowingly, I return home with dollops of drool on my pants.
She’s a loveable beast, quick to roll over for a belly rub. She’s playful and full of energy. At times I felt depleted, and employed some muscle to reign her. My husband joyfully walked the little bull, and she walked with ease for him.
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In the crisp November air, in sunshine and rain, Lucky and I went for a walk. And it was exhilarating.
