Sensory overload for dogs
Yesterday Clara was 20 minutes late for breakfast, unheard of. Kate stuck with me since her protective programming overrides all, but she was sorely tempted to stray.
85% of the back fields have been exposed rapidly over the last few days of rain and thaw. As a result, a smorgasbord of smells has exploded from the earth. Of course I can’t smell anything, but clearly it’s dazzling for dogs. A human equivalent must be the visual stimulation of Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Every time I try to catch a dog’s attention, they start toward me, then veer wildly to the left or right, nose to the ground, caught by the siren song of yet another scent trail. They stop at a hummock of grass, bury a nose deep within, snuffling, scratching with an exploratory paw, occasionally followed by consumption of god knows what – rotted vole? Deer poop? Fermented apples? Best not to look too closely.
I sheepishly wonder if this is me on the internet – constantly distracted, following random trails, consuming a lot of crap. Might be worse than eating deer poop.
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 193: 184 words, TOTAL = 31,628; 29,372 remaining
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Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.