Tuesday, August 29, 2006

summer sizzle and doggie schizzle

It shames me that my last entry is dated June 14. Where has the summer gone? Well, at least I know how it's gone! It's gone watching CNN coverage of the Lebanon war, it's gone playing lots of interesting and less interesting gigs, it's gone moving to a brand new house, the first new digs in ten years, it's gone looking after my pooch, trying to make him a mensch-dog, it's gone complaining about traffic - in short it's gone the way all summers go: preoccupied with bullshit, instead of chilling out at a lake somewhere far from the daily grind. Every year I promise myself to spend more time outdoors in the summer, to really, truly enjoy the fleeting chimera we call summer in these parts and every year I let myself down. Same time next year, baby!

In other news, my daughter Hanna, her man Andri and my cute grandson Elias are over here visiting from Iceland. It's a bit chaotic in the house (well, ok, more than just a bit), with people coming, going, showering and cooking and the baby crying and the dog barking his face off but at the same time, it's great to have family over, to be with my clan again. It's all good: wonderful when everybody is around and chaos reigns supreme and also good when they leave for a day trip and I can concentrate on some quiet work with my faithful hound at my feet (NOT!!!)

Talking about my hound (again!) - I love the way he's now trained to do his business on cue! I always take him out last thing at night, usually around 11, just before I trun in. We walk out of the door, cross the street and he immediately crouches or lifts his leg to pee (depending on how manly he's feeling, I guess). Then we walk a bit down the street, towards the main road. Hugo usually walks fast, ears perked up in the night air...he is a night hunter, for sure and he walks more briskly and purposefully than on his day walks. As soon as we reach a certain spot, he squats and does his numero duo as if on command. The master stoops to conquer, wraps it up and we're good to go back home. This ritual is repeated every night almost without fail. The dog knows how to do his thing just to please me, sometimes I think he doesn't even really need to go but he thinks: "Feh, let's get this thing over with, I want to go back to bed"....Let's hope he continues being this brisk when the north wind howls in January and we skip over snow banks.