July 7, 2020. These invisible walls are unnerving. You’re cavorting along and suddenly, whack, an invisible wall smacks you on the snout. Take what happens every morning. My landlady gets up, goes into the bathroom and stands in her water dish. (Hey. It’s her water, her dish, she can do whatever she wants. Not judging.) She turns on the faucet and stands under the water. I don’t know if I should rescue her or participate but I rush to join her and whack, slammed on the snout by the invisible wall. I see her there in the water. I can’t get to her. I run out of the room to recover, race back, it happens again. Every damned morning. My landlady says, “It’s called ‘glass,’ sweetie. Don’t try to understand it. Just remember where it is and you won’t bump your nose.” I don’t care what they call it, I’ll bite the damned thing the next time it assaults me. My landlady says it’s OK that I’m not too bright because I’m so pretty. I don’t understand that either.
Oh, Adin. My heart aches. My Big She-Dog poses perplexities as well. She knows, for instance, that I'm a hunter. I mean, hey. Brittany / English Setter mix - what does she expect. I specialize in hunting birds, especially little ones that haven't mastered flying yet. A lot of the big ones are too high up and/or boring. I love to chase bunnies. Also toads. And salamanders (there's a blue-striped skink that drives me nuts). And - oh - squirrels. They are the devil's spawn, flicking their bushy tails at me, then running up a tree and chattering away. Nasty things. Anyway, am I allowed to get close enough to catch any of these things ? No I am not…