Golden Retriever

Got out for the walk about nine-thirty, after spending some time with Maddie. Carole was here when I left--she and Grandma were headed for the doctor's office for another INR. It was pretty hot out, but there were some people out--ran into an older woman who walks alone about at the creek crossing. I stopped in front of the stand of scrub there to look back for Lark, who was just then coming past the woman, with a polite greeting in her walk. Then I heard a buzz behind me. I whirled so fast, I don't even remember doing it and was standing on the far side of the trail staring at the rattlesnake that had been curled in the shade behind me. Yikes! This time I remembered the "run and hope Lark follows" plan. It didn't work. I looked back to check and the dog was just sticking her nose into the brush where I'd been standing. "Lark!!" That worked. She came. Tell me that's not the exact reverse of what we thought would work--I came up with running because I was sure calling her would be useless. Guess not..... We ran into Jackson the Golden and his lady up in the trees, and since she was headed the way we'd been I warned her about the snake. She was shocked--she'd been going back and forth along the shady trail, and on her last pass Jackson has been sniffing around about where we'd found the snake. She'd thought he'd found a dead animal or something, and had called him away. Meep. Yay obedient dogs. Lark is still warning Jackson away from me, though.....ahem. I was talking to her when the lady from earlier caught up with us. She heard us say "snake", and stopped to ask about it. She'd heard me call Lark when she'd found the snake, and was a bit shaken to hear how close she'd been herself. Yeah. I did the rest of that hike on adrenaline, afraid to stop once we were on the winding, rocky half lest I learn more about the area I was in--such as what else was there. It's great terrain for snakes, you see. I felt better once we were back on the road, but Lark was beginning to drag pretty badly. I was still able to move briskly. Have I mentioned I'm doing a study on long pants when it's hot? Apparently they help. I have no idea why, but I have more energy left when wearing long pants than in shorts. Also I'm less certain that a snake would be able to inject me.....ahem. Long pants + summer = comfort. Somehow.

With any luck, she'll learn which animals to stay away from based on which ones I shriek at her for talking to......so far we have rattlesnakes and coyotes. It would probably cloud the issue a bit if she ever met the huge garter snake that lives in the rocks over the culvert, but I don't believe she's encountered him yet. It's a very retiring creature.

Spent the afternoon reading Three Men In a Boat, not yet feeling up to choosing something else off Grandma's shelf without a prior recommendation. Besides that, it's a lot of effort for a book one isn't sure one wants to read. Three Men In a Boat, however, is most definitely a book one wants to read. Humor takes its turn with Victorianly poetic descriptions of scenery and imaginative descriptions of local history--one of my (several) favorite parts is Jerome's plaint on the subject of living with lovers, segueing smoothly, if bitterly, into a contemplation of how it must have been for the people who had to live with Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn during their necking period, and how difficult is must have been to avoid them.  In general, it's rather difficult to remember that this is written in the nineteenth century, as to my ear it has a great deal in common with most of the really good English writing I've been exposed to. Now and then it rather smacks one, however, as when Jerome is wondering flippantly whether, in the year 2000, the willow china of the day will be set on the mantel as ornament. Well, as a matter of fact, I'm very much afraid so. I don't know about the Ramsgate souvenirs, though.

Messaged Mom for new reading material, then found a book on the shelf: The Literary Courtship, by Anna Fuller. How could I resist? It turned out to be a romance, written and set in the early 1900's, and taking place largely in Colorado Springs, complete with photographs. One, of Nevada Avenue, surprised me with its familiarity: the street is paved now, but Philip and I take it on the way home from church every Sunday. The story itself was sweet, simple, and pretty predictable, at least to the veteran of such novels. All in all, there were no surprises, but the writing was enjoyable and the narrating character sympathetic.

Fed the cat and watered the plants after dinner, then took Lark on her run. There appeared to be a gathering of the picnic or barbecue variety at the green house; what was less explicable was the man sitting in the car parked along the road. Nor was he explained; but he did warn me about continuing, saying I was likely to run into a bunch of boys playing Airsoft war out back, and that they might mistake me for one of them. I thanked him for the warning and acknowledged this possibility. I was wearing a white t-shirt, which was helpful, but I made sure to take off my hat. In the end I doubt they noticed me, being occupied in camping behind their cover and carrying on urgent discussions through their walkie-talkies. Spoiled kids.....We did meet, some way into the trail, a middle-aged couple. The woman paused to ask about Lark, and to tell me they'd run into a similar dog earlier. To my regret, we saw no sign of any other dogs, nor met anyone else.