In true Arizona fashion, fall came and left us in the span of a week. Unreasonably hot days melted, almost seamlessly into unreasonably cold nights. November is really and truly upon us, and I for one, am displeased.

Not only because I have an innate dislike for chilly weather, but also because I loathe holidays with and begin exhibiting an almost primal kind of fear as they approach. This year I am particularly dismayed at your absence, in case I haven't mentioned that enough. I have been mulling over the various ways I might somehow goad you into coming home for T-day, but there's always at least one irritating little detail I can't seem to get around. And so, all my plotting (so far, at least) has been for naught.


In other news, some creature or another has been leaving piles of mystery poo on our patio. At first I suspected this little black kitten in a pink collar, that was hopelessly enamored of Mittens. He spent his evenings languishing about our patio, pawing hopelessly at the arcadia doors, and occasionally headbutting the window. Goose has informed me however, that upon closer inspection she believes them to be the handy-work of a dog. A big dog. Much bigger than the poor lovestruck kitty.

This brings me to another point.
One of loose dogs.

The other night I was up well past my bed time working on a exam. Sometime after midnight a dog began barking. Loudly. Eventually I sent Goose to investigate. She peered out the window, and let me know there was a very large, mildly disgruntled pitbull on our patio barking at the door. I set my work aside, opened the door, and sure enough, there he was. He was a big dog, and would have been terribly handsome had he not been trying to bark my door down. He was black with a white chest, and was wearing a collar with tags. Well enough was enough. I marched up to him, and he quieted down for a second, took a few hesitant steps toward me, and then Emmy woke up. She let out one singular warning howl and the trespasser went nuts. His hair went up, his ears went down, and his tail was as far between his legs as it could get. Poor thing. When my goofy dog (who's two favorite treats, for the record, are celery and ice cubes) scares the living bejeezus out of you, you know you've got issues. Anyway, I chased him off. He came back a couple of times, but then left for good.

The next morning we saw the SAME dog on a leash, being walked around the next complex over. I seriously hope he managed to escape and is not roaming around free at night. Anyway...

As I walked out my door today to find yet another outrageous pile of feces on my patio I can't help but wonder if it's from THAT dog.

As irritating as that might be, it's better than the alternative that one of my neighbors is allowing their dogs to defecate on patio, not 4 inches from my door, and then refusing to pick it up.

Apparently there are no good answers. At least not when I'm the one left cleaning it up. :/


Miss you tons Dear Friend. Tons and Tons.