- The bear is a regular occurrence these days and definitely showing it’s intelligence. I think it’s a she because it’s showing the cubs where to find free food.
(Like my neighbor’s really expensive bird feeders.)
- Kisa has been doing agility and obedience training. The first time we ran the agility course off leash, she was all over the place for the first four or five obstacles — about a minute and a half to do a couple of jumps. Her favorite squeaky toy got her through the rest of the course in 15 seconds. Obedience is a different story.
(“Down and stay? At the same time? When there are other dogs around I can play with? Do I get treats for all this nonsense?”)
- The big snake is either gone or has been reincarnated into a thousand little ones. Kisa pees on one almost every time we take her outside.
- I’m almost done with my second graduate school course. Only ten more to go.
(What was I thinking about?)
- They finally paved the road. But not before we totally trashed the suspension and alignment in both vehicles. It’s really a shame because I think I almost had Tom convinced we need to buy a Hummer.
- One of our local bats finally made its way into the house a few nights ago and was flying out of control from one end of the house to the other. The dog’s chasing it up and down the hall, I’m bellying across the floor because the bat is flying two feet off the ground, trying to catch the dog and maintain my sanity while Tom’s yelling “Get the dog out of the way… I don’t have a catcher’s mitt… I need a catcher’s mitt!!!” What a comedy… I finally cornered the dog and got her out of the room and Tom chased it out the door with a couple of baseball caps.
- Our bat experience isn’t nearly as bad as another one we’ve heard. Apparently, there were millions of them living in the attic over the Town Hall… I think they said there was between one and two feet of bat guano on the floor. Anyway, they called someone in to get rid of the bats. They succeeded, but most of the bats moved into the attic of someone’s house across the street.
(I hope they have a catcher’s mitt.)
Diary: July 1999
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