Our violets are on their way out. I so wish they bloomed all summer long. Larkspur and I spent some time yesterday afternoon picking them and taking photos. She and I are two peas in a pod. Of all of my children, she is the most like me. We are a dangerous team at a plant sale, and we are the biggest animal lovers in the family. We even love the bad ones, and I’m specifically talking about Weasel, because if ever there was a very bad little doggie, ’twas he. He’s adorable in many ways (in my opinion and in Larkspur’s, though the rest of the family mostly just tolerates him), and while he is housebroken now, he has some behavioral issues. We were right to think that it was a little nuts to bring him home. Perhaps most forgivable (because obviously he can’t help it) is his tendency to roll over and projectile tinkle when he feels threatened in any way. It doesn’t take much, and I have to say it’s truly a special talent. I’ve never known a dog like him. He almost got me in the face the other day and all I was doing was trying to pull a piece of tape off his back paw while using my singsong voice. Scared the poor thing to death. And for the millionth time I thought to myself, “Thank goodness we don’t have any carpet!” Anyway, this wasn’t meant to be a post about Weasel, but it feels good to get his “bad dog” status out there. I’ve encouraged my family to just do their best to keep loving him, that it’s good practice. We all have to love difficult people, why not practice on a neurotic little wiener dog?
p.s. Here are a few of Larkspur’s photos: