I just opened a window on my browser, tabbed over to the google search bar, then… nothing. In the amount of time it took me to make those two actions, I’d forgotten what I was wanting to look for. So I came here instead. It’s just that kind of day.
What was I saying?
I’ve decided that Boonie will never truly be a ‘fetch’ kind of dog. She does adore running after balls… or so I thought. However she’s pretty terrible at picking it up when she gets there; she usually runs straight past it in the purer joy of simply running. If she does pick up the ball, she generally runs away from me, rather than the traditional fetch behavior of returning.
I always assumed she just didn’t get it. I figured some day it would click, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I’m starting to wonder, though. That gleeful chase for the ball could be a very different emotion. “Mom! My thing! Why are you throwing my thing? What on earth would you do that for? It’s mine!” Then the chase, and then she either gets distracted (she is a bit of a dim bulb, and really loves flat-out running) or she picks it up and takes it somewhere safe, somewhere far away from crazy precious-chucking momma.
So I shall not throw the ball for my dog any more. I refuse to torture her that way.
I had another thing I wanted to blog about, but I’ve completely forgotten what it was. I remember it was one word, that had the same rough number of syllables as “dog ball.” That’s how I told myself I was going to remember it. “Blankblank and dog ball.” Generally those sounding techniques work for me, but I think this one wasn’t quite close enough to work.
Sooo…. instead perhaps I shall talk about Oakland and the perfect waffle. No? Right, then, the joys of berrying. Also no? It came to me while I was in the car, just leaving the dog park… there was a lot of traffic… I remember seeing…. No good. It’s not going to come to me. It could have been while I was thinking about returning books, or finding wood (oo! gotta call Irina), or thinking of Urban Ore, or dreaming of putting fairy doors in the backyard, or thinking about art and supplies, how it’s a cheap thing to do, but requires a little outlay at first.
Nope. It’s not coming. It was far, far more interesting than the dog bit too. GOLdang it, that’s going to bug me. I mean, even more than it already does.
Something about my car? About concerts? About…
Memory is a funny thing. Just when you think you’ve got something down, it goes and twists on you. That’s why Memento was so affecting, and why Alzheimer’s is so terrifying. Everyone has those minutes, or hours even, where the loss of a memory drives them completely batty. But can you imagine living your entire life in those minutes? Having only moments of clarity, and then back into the fog.
Today is as close as I’d like to get to that, thank you very much. And yet, I know it’s highly likely I’ll get closer. I’ll just not think about that right now. Luckily, today it seems remarkably easy to not think about things.