It’s only 89 degrees at 4:00pm. There’s a pretty good cloud cover and a tiny breeze. We do the long loop, and it’s actually not terrible. Halfway through, the sun comes out. And it’s terrible.
I’m tired and depressed, and I have been for a while. Maybe I need to adjust my amino acids? Or maybe I should just stop drinking my feelings, which is what I’ve done six times in the last month. (That’s a lot for me. I usually drink two or three times a year.)
Nonetheless, the stress of the crate-and-rotate routine is wearing on me. I email the organization asking for strategies to get Tulip adopted.
I wake up bleary-eyed from not going to bed on time again. At the same moment I reach down to grab Tulip’s bowl, she jumps up to say good morning and cracks my chin with her skull. I come very close to hitting my foster dog. But I don’t. Then she pees on the deck. And I still don’t hit her. Good thing she’s fucking adorable.
The org emails me and suggests, amongst other things, I make a Facebook page for her. So I do. (Like it! Share it!)
Late-night 2.5 miles. Gorgeous.
Another 2.5 miles after sundown. Less than 90 degrees is so much better than more than 90 degrees.
Friends come over! Tulip does The Tulip Dance, and it goes a little something like this:
Love makes Tulip smile.
Tulip registers her displeasure at the distribution of peanut butter with an impassioned speech.