O'Possum, Where art thou?

September typically brings a wonderful Indian Summer to Oregon and this year is no different. The mornings start off cool. Then the days warm up (sometimes too warm! we're back in the 90s again) and the evening breeze kicks in around 7 p.m. and makes for a pleasant night. Saturday was just like this. I had all the windows and screen doors open enjoying the cooling breeze through the house. It was a nice change from the AC. Gracie was up to something in one of the back bedrooms - it's hard to know sometimes. And then I heard a slight scratching noise by the front porch. It was a soft noise, but one that Gracie heard from the netherworld of the back of the house. She came charging down the hallyway to the front window and arrived in time to see two opossums crawl out from under the front porch. In a flash, she hit the window screen, which promptly popped out. It was only because I was close by that I got my arms around her waist as she was half way out the window. I'm surprised the opossums didn't keel over right then, but instead they scampered off toward the neighbor's house. Gracie gave them a few parting barks that would make a grown man go weak. I haven't seen the opposum twins lately, so I'm hoping the notion of a dog for an upstairs neighbor was not appealing to them.

I'm reminded of a story from my friend, Steve. He has a golden retriever named Jiggs who has about a million stuffed dog toys. One such toy is a opossum. During Steve's evening ritual of collecting the stuffed toys from the yard, he picked up the stuffed opossum, but if felt a bit different. It wasn't a toy. It was, in fact, a young neighborhood opossum that Jiggs had startled into paralysis. Ugh...

Brother, can you spare a sock?

Just last Tuesday, I was coming out of the bathroom after performing my nightly "get ready for bed" rituals only to find Gracie sitting by the open closet door smacking her lips.

"What have you done?" I inquired. She declined to answer.

I glanced quickly around the closet. My gaze landed on the laundry hamper. The two blue dress socks I had placed in there earlier in the evening were gone. In addition, a lone black sock peeked out from under a white t-shirt.

I spun around and grabbed Gracie on either side of her face. I pressed my nose to hers. "Why?! Why would you eat those socks?" I asked her. Again, she declined to answer.

I've been on sock watch for a week. There's been much pooping and no vomiting (thank goodness!) To be honest, I'm not sure if the socks have completed the process yet. I try not to look too closely.

Sunday at the Parks

It was a lazy Sunday morning. Finally about 9 a.m., Gracie and I made our way to the dog park. There was a crisp hint of fall in the air. Not too surprisingly, the dog park parking lot was almost full. We got one of the last spots. The dogs at the park will feeling the friskiness that comes with the cooler temperatures and the treat of being off leash.

Gracie trotted around the park with her prized tennis ball. I got to throw it once - when we first arrived. I managed to "trade for it" with a favorite treat. But after that, she packed it around. It's almost like a security blanket for her.

Later Sunday, we both were feeling a bit restless and headed down to Bush Park. Leashes are required here, but that's OK. Birthday parties were in full swing at the various picnic tables. There was a great game of Frisbee football underway. Gracie tried to rifle through the players discarded sweatshirts in search of missing morsel of food. She found none.

Rain clouds on the horizon were threaten, but the breeze seem to be pushing the rain anywhere but where we were walking. I know the rain falls on the just and unjust alike, but on Sunday, the showers moved on without dampening our spirits.

The two long strolls at the parks on Sunday gave way to a very restful sleep last night (that, and also not having to go to work today!). Say what you will about Salem, but for parks and spending time with your best pal, it can't be beat.