September 2, 2010. Thursday.
Situation: Work tonight, and find it most convenient to take Mway for her walk around noon. Mway, lying under the kitchen table, doesn’t expect a walk at this odd hour, but when I open the door, she bolts toward it.
State of the Path: I think the goldenrod is close to, if not at, its peak, with nearly every stem spiking up yellow (though at the clearing I realize most of the goldenrod around there is still green); the same I’d say is true of the touch-me-nots, though I’ve yet to find an exploding seed pod. I discover a new little pink, clover-like wildflower by the wigwams (and maybe the same down by the creek) – no time today to try to figure out what this is. I cross the feed channel, wary of a bumblebee climbing on a boneset blossom. There are a couple new flowers on the aster, though the plant’s having a rough time of it in the dry dirt of the ditch. In bug land there’s a bush now bearing red berries – no time to figure out what this is either. As I approach the break in the ridge, I hear what sounds like a cough, and Mway comes bolting from the ridge and starts running along it after something – don’t know what it is, and she loses track of it.
State of the Creek: No change, as far as I can tell, in the creek.
The Fetch: More fetches than I care to deal with, in what’s still hot and humid weather. Mway’s bark today sounds like a piggish squeal; maybe she has a cold, or allergies from ragweed pollen. Back at the house, she drops the stick at the end of the porch instead of in front of the door as I like; when I ask her “Where’s your stick?” she doesn’t run over to get it as she normally would, instead stands there panting. Probably her mouth is so dry from chomping on the lilac stick, she can’t think to respond to my question today, and I don’t press the issue.
