Trips to town (finally made it yesterday) always take a little longer with Michael. It's the same wherever we go. As soon as we get out of the truck, he does a recon of the area looking for the best piddle and, thankfully not often, a poop spot. Being an equal-opportunity guy, he tries to spread the wealth around while I stand there trying to look like he's just sniffing bushes.
Once inside wherever and everywhere we're going, it begins...and it's always the same. I can't tell you how many times we get stopped in Walmart..."Oh, how beautiful!," "What kind of dog is he?," etc. There is always someone, man or woman, who has to tell me about their dog(s), past, present, and future. In a past life, I was an in-and-out shopper. No longer. There's no sense fighting it, the Michael Magnet draws people of all ages, and there I am, along for the ride. I had to cut a conversation short in the parking lot with a gentleman with a Shih Tzu who was giving me the lowdown on how and why he'd picked this particular little cutie because I was worried about getting home before dark. I don't drive after dark anymore. We barely made it, but we made it.
I did make one last stop to pick up some Chinese take-out. At home, Michael shared the broccoli, the celery, the zucchini, etc. (I kept the snow peas for myself), and politely spit out the carrot. As I was waiting for the coffee to drip this morning, I realized I have five kinds of cat treats and five kinds of dog treats (six, if you count the kind he doesn't like). What's wrong with me? Don't answer that.
Stay safe. Be well.
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