I did not show up for my novel this morning. It was intentional. I felt at an impasse – boxed in by my own words. It was best to let it sit and percolate on its own.
It’s Saturday and everyone deserves a day off to do something else, to let the creative juices rejuvenate. After two days of long walks with Sheba on the rope, I head to our old dog park. I want to roam free. It’s small and on a Saturday, lots of company for both of us.
Things went relatively well. Sheba played with another enthusiastic young Lab. After awhile she got annoyed with the pup going after her butt constantly. A little snapping of the teeth and few barks did little to deter the lad. More dogs joined the group, among them a GREAT BIG furry one. It was close quarters. The young lad keep prancing at Sheba, Sheba barking and snapping her jaw. All of a sudden the big one and Sheba were after each others throat. I grabbed her but she slithered through. The big one’s owner grabbed his collar. He broke loose. I started running away, calling for Sheba. She followed.
Disaster was averted. I took Sheba into a different fenced off part of the park. We ambled through the snow and frozen cattails. It was peaceful. The gate clanged. Oh no! The young prancing Lab and its owner entered. So we tried walking with them again. I didn’t have the heart to tell the owner that well, we don’t want to walk with them. The dogs decided it for me. The pup wanted to play, but Sheba didn’t. To avert another fight, I said it was time for us to go.
Saturday is almost done. No great accomplishments. But we are doing the best we can. Fights and words are averted. Wine sipped and we have supped. And I am still writing words every day, though not necessarily for the novel. I am keeping my fingers limber and flexible.