Rooki's dinner tonight: chicken thighs, cooked only enough in olive oil and a touch of water to render a little sauce for brown rice and a fat clump of chopped fresh spinach.
Marrow bones for dessert mean that I now have the pleasure of hearing her (she's out of sight somewhere) gnaw. I love that sound. If I am ever imprisoned, someone please smuggle a recording of that in to me.
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La Rukiña somehow managed to get unbelievably filthy over the past few days, probably from wiggling in everything from wet grass to pavement to ice, mud and snow. Now that her hot spot has finally healed and she's out of her sock, I didn't like seeing her start itching again. So, as soon as we had a tub available, I asked her to hop in. The geometry of it was difficult, so she answered by slicking her ears back and slow-wagging with a sweet smile. I helped her over the edge and gave her (and the rest of the bathroom) a shower with oatmeal shampoo. A river of black grime - accumulated in I'm not sure how many states - ran from the World Bear down the drain.
Now my little puppy outglows all the gold there is. And she feels great.
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I've decided that Roo's birthday will be November 11th. I chose that date because a) it could very well be the right one, based on the age she was when she came to me as a foster, and, b) because that's my birthday. It has been at least 35 years since I've celebrated my birthday. Before that, as a child, I dreaded them, because in the family I came from, birthdays and holidays were torture. As soon as I found out such a thing as a country without Christmas existed, that's where I would go whenver I could. When I see those notices on facebook that someone is inviting me to try the Birthdays app, it makes me wince (that app, by the way, can't be turned off. It pretends to let you, but believe me, it can not be.).
So, why not? Roo turns every day into something special, so she might as well turn November 11th into something to celebrate. And Miss Kahoo gets to have a birthday, too.
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The video is from a motel in South Dakota. Every once in a while we stay at a place where there's the vibe that a leash isn't necessary. In those cases, and if it's safe - meaning no danger from cars - the Kahoo roams. Having a deep sneaky streak, she likes to go places she knows she's not supposed to.