Windy

I don’t know if they make an Alli equivalent for dogs, but I’m beginning to think Miss Cleo would benefit. Why? Because she’s got fatty cysts.

Okay, okay, I know that a fat blocker wouldn’t really help the cysts. They’re a normal sign of aging for a dog of her size and breed, but she does need to lose five pounds, and so in the interest of not feeling like a lump myself, and in helping her accomplish this, she, Zorro, and I walked a mile in the wind today.

It wasn’t hot, but I must still be mildly sick (I know I am, because my throat and ear are still achy when I swallow), because I felt hot even though it wasn’t more than 73 degrees, and despite the fact that the wind had a distinct bite to it.

I like rainy springs better than windy ones.
Really.

Anyway, in the back of my mind there’s a line from a play – Into the Woods, I think – about fleeing or fearing the wind.

A throwaway line, but in my head nonetheless.
Weirder things have happened.