Friday, 11 July 2014

09:39 – Barbara is meeting her sister after work for dinner and then making a supermarket run. Colin and I will have leftover gloppita and watch Heartland reruns.

Friday is my least-favorite morning. We get garbage pickup on Friday mornings. The garbage truck periodically compresses the garbage and then drips garbage juice the whole way down the street. Trying to walk Colin is about useless because he insists on pulling his way down the street, snout to the pavement, tracking the garbage truck. What’s worse is that he isn’t content to sniff; he licks the wet spots on the pavement. Colin lives to track, and he doesn’t care what he’s tracking. Any thought of doing what we’re actually out there for couldn’t be further from his mind. So on most Friday mornings, I have to walk him at least twice as far as usual before I can get him to do anything. And he’s slower than usual because he’s sniffing constantly. His first walk on a normal morning takes maybe 15 minutes. This morning, it was 40 minutes.