Magic Mike

No, I'm not talking about Matthew McConaughey and other male strippers in that racy 2012 movie.  I'm talking about Michael's magical powers.  It's absolutely amazing how he draws people to him.  We were in town yesterday and clerks came out from behind their counters to meet Michael.  Women in the aisles stopped to pet him (I always appreciate that people ask first), ask about him, and tell me about dogs they've had in their lives.  More surprising still are the many men who do the same.  I mean, I've seen dogs before and admired them for their coats or behavior, but it wouldn't have occurred to me to stop their owner.  People just gush over Michael.

It's not just the admiration that makes Michael happy to go shopping.  There are all those bushes and trees in the parking lots and he has to visit every one wherever we go.  He goes through the motions even when the well is dry.

Michael has another, not so pleasing, magic trick.  He can disappear.  Hands full of bags to unload when we got home, I'd left his leash in the truck.  When we headed out for our evening walk, I went one way to get the leash and Michael headed off in the other.  "Michael, don't you do it!  Get your fuzzy butt right back here!"  "Lalalala.  I can't hear you," and just like that, he vanished.  In due time (Michael's time) he came back.  Doggone dog.

It's very liberating not to have a clock in the bedroom.  When the power blipped the other day, of course it set the clock to blinking and I just haven't gotten around to resetting it.  I'm used to waking up in the dark, but try to hang out in bed until 5 or so.  Three-thirty seems ridiculous even to me.  The last few days, if I'm tired I go back to sleep.  If not, I get up.  It's like drawing a card in poker to find out what time it really is when I get to the kitchen.  Today I drew a six.  Ta da!