Now, Dudley's the laziest dog in all of dogkind on a regular day, but, this morning, with the wind howling through the tree branches outside and the rain pelting against the windows, I couldn't rouse him from bed for love nor
As I bent over to pick up the mess, I thought: Please Maude, do not let me die by getting hit in the head with a flying garbage can while picking up dogshit.
The wind has kept up all day, and, even for a typically windy area, this is total fuckwind. SpikeTV for Men presents XXXtreme Wind!!!11!
I like this sort of storminess, with all its electric whooshing and ominous jangling of distant windchimes. I like the sound it makes on the pavement with crunchy leaves; I like the patterns it draws across the sky with clouds of unusual color.
Of course, I have the privilege of being indoors. And human.
When I had Dudley out around noon, a squirrel with an impossibly large walnut in hir mouth ran up a tree right beside us, near the corner of the house. Zie paused, eye-level with me, clinging to the branch as the bullying wind knocked hir about, and gave me a wide-eyed look, as if to say, "What. The. Fuck." before carrying on, up onto the roof, and disappearing somewhere into the tops of the trees in the backyard.