I’m a little embarrassed about yesterday’s post. I’m a quiet, private kind of girl. A Zen dog — the kind of dog that Maery needs. Latte on the other hand is a Zany dog. She and Maery are a bit too alike to be good for each other in large doses.
The whole bathroom thing is really part of the art of Feng Shui, a practice I follow as much as is possible in my life, with the limited amount of control I have over my surroundings.
The day after we went to Lake Mille Lacs, Maery took me to Father Hennepin State Park for a walk. So far so good. The paths travel alongside the lake and through the surrounding woods.
The drive there was much more pleasant than the one we had up to the cabin. On that drive, I was packed into the back of the Mini Cooper like luggage. But on the way to the Father Hennepin, all the containers and bags were out of the car and strewn across every square inch of the tiny cabin.
Maery has been thinking about buying one of those tiny homes that have only 200-500 square feet of living space. After staying in the cabin, she thinks that is perhaps a little TOO small. She decided this after having to step over me for the tenth time.
Anyway, I kind of wandered off topic there. A bad habit I’ve picked up from Maery…
I really don’t like to talk about people. It’s just not my nature. What I have to say about Maery isn’t really bad, per say, depending on how tolerant you are. I find her somewhat amusing. But I do believe you should get the full picture here, and not just what Maery decides to tell you.
There is more to Maery than she lets on…
When we arrived at Father Hennepin State Park, Maery drove around, trying to figure out where you are supposed to park and whether it was okay to park in the camping areas. No other cars were around, so there was no parking pattern to follow. A decision had to be made based solely on Maery’s own judgement. I wish she would be more confident in herself and her decisions. Alas, she is not.
We finally picked a place to park by a beach. I could smell the lake and the sand and the fish and decaying leaves and deer. So many smells! I was standing at attention, ready to leap gracefully out of the car and start exploring. I waited for Maery to open the Mini’s hatch.
But first, Maery got out of the car and took off her sweater, saying, “I think this will be too warm.”
She walked over to the passenger side, opened the door, put on her windbreaker and started to put on her camera backpack, then realized that she had left the passenger window half open.
She took the backpack off, walked back over to the driver side, opened the door, got in and closed the door (because you can’t put up the window with the doors open in a Mini) and pushed the button that makes the window go up.
She got back out of the car, walked over to the passenger side, opened the door, and realized that there was a very strong and cold breeze coming off the lake and she shivered. “I think I better put my sweater back on,” she said.
She went back to the driver side, took off the windbreaker, opened the door, got in, rooted around for her sweater, and put the sweater and windbreaker back on.
She got out of the car, walked over to the passenger side while muttering something about “I’m glad no one is here to have witnessed that.”
Chuckling to herself, she opened the door, put on the backpack and hooked a bag of water to it.
By this time, I was no longer dancing around the back of the Mini and putting nose smudges on the window. I was sitting down and wondering how many more times she would remember something or change her mind again.
But finally, Maery grabbed my leash and came around to the back of the Mini, still laughing to herself, opened the hatch and said, “Well, that was silly, wasn’t it?”
Does she really want me to answer that?
After we started on our walk, things were good. I even ran into another dog that was running loose. I wanted to play, but he was kind of old and crabby and his owner dragged him away, so no new friend…
Maery stops A LOT on our walks to take pictures. Half the time, I don’t get what she is trying to take a photo of. What is visually interesting about leaves on a tree? Or a rotting stump, covered in lichen? I mean, the camera can’t capture smells and THAT is what is interesting.
Sometimes, when Maery is practically laying on the ground, getting up close to something, I come over and try to see and smell what is so fascinating, but she makes me move away and tells me to “Stay.”
Sometimes Maery focuses the camera on me. She makes me sit on a rock or under a tree. While I’m looking all around and trying to figure out what I’m smelling and hearing, Maery keeps chirping, “Java! Java! Look here! Look here! Come on!”
She’ll click her tongue, snap her fingers and cluck, like I’m some kind of horse, while I keep going about my environmental analysis. It’s the funniest thing!
Sometimes Maery gets frustrated with me while we’re walking and says something like, “Are you going to stop at every tree?!”
She actually asks me that question after I’ve sat and waited through all her camera rituals.
Maery talks a lot while we’re walking. She doesn’t really say anything and her conversation isn’t really directed to anyone. It’s more like a running commentary.
“Woah. Almost tripped over that tree root.”
“Holy moly! That wind is cold!”
“Wow. It really warmed up now that we’re away from the lake. Wait a minute. I need to take off my jacket.” (camera bag, jacket removal, put bag back on ritual – which is repeated in reverse when she gets cold again)
“Not another puddle!” (while I am saying, “Yeh! Another puddle!”)
It’s a good thing I’m a very patient, low-key kind of dog…
Actually, I don’t have too much to complain about. Maery did, after all, take me with her on her vacation.