Confusion

Sometimes, when I get dressed and go to the front door, I take Buster and Gracie for a walk. Sometimes I don't. This irregularity confuses them; they don't know whether to bounce with joy or sit in the living room, gazing at me reproachfully.

They have begun to learn an infallible sign of impending walks. If I walk into the kitchen, pick up the roll of poop bags, and tear one off, it's definite: it's walkies time!

They're not the brightest of dogs, but they can observe and draw conclusions.

Stan, Stan, Stan

I'm listening to "The Very Best of Stan Rogers". I have to thank those of my friends, mostly of the Canadian persuasion, who kept pushing him on me; I love this album.

"White Squall".
"The Last Watch".
"Forty-Five Years".
"Lock-Keeper".
"The Jeannie C.".
And best of all, "The Mary Ellen Carter":

"And you, to whom adversity has dealt the final blow
With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go
Turn to, and put out all your strength of arm and heart and brain
And like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again!
Rise again, rise again!
Though your heart it be broken and life about to end
No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend
Then like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again!"