its feet beat music to the harvest song

I lay in bed, sleep alluding me. It was 4am and as the minutes ticked away I wondered how long it would take for the smell of dog poop to clear. Adia had an accident, perhaps because of the tiny dried liver treat that I’d given her earlier in the day. She normally rings the bell, but perhaps she didn’t have a chance last night.

For the record, I fell asleep to the aroma and it seems to have cleared by 6am when she needed out again. 

She’s a great dog, but gosh, her guts are sensitive, and man o man I wish she didn’t have to go out so early in the morning… 

In my quest to expand her food repertoire, I gave her some liver treats this morning too… I figure it will be through her system by bedtime.

The weather is still yucky - rain on Wednesday (lots of it), cloudy and drizzly yesterday, grey with a chilling wind today. Weather that you’d expect at the end of October.

Wednesday we got in the car and drove all the way to Ikea. A quick lunch first (Swedish Meatballs of course), then wandering through the giant store. At times I felt disoriented and overwhelmed, but I kept my head down and we eventually found what we were looking for. The main item on the list was a carpet for the spare bedroom. We found something that does the trick but maybe wasn’t exactly my first choice. 

Thursday we picked up some anti-anxiety pills from the vet for Spike to take when we are away, and then had breakfast at the nearby greasy spoon (will I ever tire of bacon and eggs?). Since Liquidation was across the street… we actually scored big time with canned dog food. We were home for a while, then we had a meeting with some guy in a nearby town. Another few hours at home before supper at Trudie and Leo’s. A busy day. Adia spent much time in her crate but survived the ordeal.

We are home all day today so she’s been driving us crazy by being underfoot.  Anytime I stand up she jumps up to follow me. No matter which drawer or door I open, Adia’s head is inside. No sock is safe from her curiosity. She’s a busy dog. Spike doesn’t budge from the futon unless I mention going outside.

“October, ruddy-cheeked, comes o'er the plains,

And as with rustling step it speeds along,

Its feet beat music to the harvest song…”

~Albert Laighton