The Dead Dog

In my travels, I came upon a dead dog. (Great first line for an epic world-building fantasy) He was lying in the middle of a parking space in Granville Island, an artsy/touristy area of Vancouver that I love to visit and soak up the creative vibes.

I knelt down, trying to remember my first responder abc’s. You know, Airway, Breathing, and the

third one. Might I need to perform mouth to muzzle? Was a defibrillator nearby? I thought how, upon revival, a dog would be forever in my debt.

However, before being caught inflagrante, the owner, an artist in a nearby studio, appeared. Oh, he does that
all the time, I was told, lies down in random spots. He’s a bit elderly so he is happy to saunter aimlessly. (Like the elderly do on cruise ships!) Then, when he has had enough,  collapses like a puppet whose strings have been cut. (Again, like the elderly) Hence, and you might be able to see it in the photo, the tag around his neck: I AM NOT LOST.

Made my day! I was very happy not to have to spatula a dead dog from the ground. (I think there is an emoji for that) Thanks for reading!

And here I thought . . .

A dog is a reminder . . .

The anticipation of baseball . . .

More What I’ve Learned in Life

My Love Affair With Books

I’ve always been an eclectic reader, I think owing to my parents (both avid readers) wide ranging selection of literature around the house.

When I was 10 torso,  I couldn’t get to sleep one night and my dad gave me a James Herriot,

and I fell asleep right away haha. Actually I still couldn’t sleep but because the writing was so compelling. I think my dad thought that such a light ‘frivolous’ read might be just the thing to get me to sleep (he was a reader of the Russian masters, had he handed me Bobok or Notes From Underground, who knows the trajectory of my life).

Make me one with everything . . .

. . .said the guru to the hot dog vendor.