Golden, dachshund, goldendoodle, golden/german shepherd, short black poodly creature

Sid came over after breakfast to talk to Grandma. She's taking us to the doctor's office this afternoon--somehow I'm going, I'm not sure why. It was nine-forty when Lark and I headed out. It was pretty nice out. It was kinda funny--when I hit the dam, and went onto it to cross, there was a woman with a Golden coming on one side, and a man with a boy and a dachshund going on the other side. We met the three boys just before the big dip in the path, where water runs when there's enough. The man said "hi," the boy--about Isaac's age, I think--told me they had a dog with them too, and he was the short one, and Reggie the dachshund tried to mount Lark. She didn't disembowel him, so I guess she liked him. I said "excuse me," "I see," and "Lark!" in that order. Then we ran for a bit. The other option was to stay with them, and, while interesting, it's a bit more complicated than just leaving them behind. My body took the running rather well, I thought. Anyway, we met the woman with the Golden again in the road, and she told me she'd seen what she thought was a snake, up in the middle of the road, and so had turned back. I thanked her for the warning, and we exchanged a few remarks on snakes in general. She doesn't like 'em. So we kept going, and sure enough, up on the slope before the next patch of shade there was a sort of log shape in the middle of the road. It looked a bit like a dried stalk of mullen, and I thought, "Was that what she was talking about?" Lark promptly trotted up to sniff it, and as promptly bounced back, as the snake hissed and drew its head back. As its tail began to buzz, I called Lark, my voice, after the first shriek, only a little frantic. She looked at me, looked back at the interesting creature making such an odd sound in the middle of the road, looked back at me, and then trotted regretfully over. I leashed her, telling her what a good dog she was, and we made a careful circuit, going off the road a bit, as the dratted snake had a commanding position in the center of the road. I did not unclip the dog until we were inside the house. Lesson no. 1: I do not like poisonous snakes. Lesson no. 2: If Lark is ever bitten, it will be on the nose. Lesson no. 3: Just because you dream your dog is eaten by coyotes does not mean she will be bitten by snakes. Or at least not the very next morning. I noticed even my subconscious couldn't imagine such an eventuality, though.

Sid took Grandma to the doctor's office after lunch. I spent some time on the comp, then crashed. Grandma woke me at about four-fifteen to get ready to go to the ball game. I was ready to go, having walked the dog, eaten, and changed, by five, the estimated time of departure. Ralph came this time--he's allowed to drive, now. I hadn't known, though if I'd thought about it I suppose I would've. Anyway, it was a decent game, I guess. The Dodgers creamed us. It was the same place as last time, so there were a lot of dogs again, starting with two beagle puppies in the parking lot--terribly adorable, they were. Then there were a Goldendoodle, which I visited, and a boxer, which I did not, in the audience. Oh, and those two beautiful Danes went past again. After that was a huge brindle mastiff--it was a perfect setup for Sid's joke, actually, where you go up to the guy in the park with the dog and go "Oooh, handsome," or something like that, and when he's accepting this as a compliment of his dog, you go, "The dog's not bad either." I, of course, am not about to get up the nerve to do this in a million years (Sid says she can't remember if she did this when she was younger or not), much less to run up to a shirtless guy in the park and say it. Fun to think about, though. Hm, what else? Oh, yeah, there was a man walking a pair that may have been an Aussie and a rat terrier. Not sure, though. Aussie mix, maybe--it had a conspicuous tail, for one.....

We larked again after I got home, about eight. We met the couple with the leashed barkers almost first thing, coming up the Nevada road; they reeled their dogs in and kindly waited for us to get to our turn. I got in a breed query, and got an answer on the brown one, at least: golden/German shepherd. Wow. Never would have thought it. Right color, though, I guess. It was actually a really nice walk, after my knee stopped hurting; a certain prancing someone whanged it with a stick before we even made the gate. For symmetry, I guess. The other one's flashier, with the scabbed scrape, but it was hurting at walks for days after I knocked it going after her on a runaway night. Feh. My left stopped hurting after awhile, though, so I could enjoy the walk and wonder whether we'd make it back before full dark. We did, but the sun was no more than a pale orange glow behind the mountains, fading through pink to blue. A buck was standing at the fence between Heller land and the driveway parallel to the road; I think we'd interrupted his feeding, though when I caught his eye he was simply standing, watching us. Lark, of course, noticed nothing, though he stood there until I could no longer see him.

Fifteen pushups, twenty situps. I could probably up the number of pushups now, but I don't have the energy.