After working most of the day on my stupid pimping plus auto-chase plus car-wreck case i didn't feel much like working out, so only did a partial combo routine. It was late in the afternoon and i figured it would do just as well to take Mr. Dog for a romp.
I didn't feel like take him to the park because on the weekend all the fat people with their darling savages would probably be out ... So i drove up to the lower Nooksack instead.
We hadn't been there in quite some time and the trail was so overgrown as to be unrecognisable. We ended up making our way through a mile of six foot high tall grass. Nicki of course loved it and when he wasn't poking into the thickets he was barrelling down the path like a fuzzy rocket.
He still stops, though, and waits while i take a picture. I never taught him to do this. He just does it. I wonder what he thinks. He surely must think i'm sniffing (i.e. investigating) something but it's a mystery to me how else he unravels what must be a mystery to him.
It certainly is a mystery to me what he smells in a truly rancid piece of rotting fish skin. He was quite adamant about not giving it up; but fortunately i had a mini milk bone in my pocket and we bartered a trade.
We drove home along the bay as the sun set amidst gathering rain clouds.
