But, I don’t think Carmel looks much like a boy. I think he looks like a supermodel, thin, all legs, a picky eater—he even walks like a supermodel.
I call him Carmel Macchiato because Carmel Macchiato is a supermodel’s name.
I took Carmel Macchiato, the supermodel, for a run at the neighbor dog park. Away from the paparazzi, he could be just another normal dog. He had a blast romping with the pack—but when he came back to me something was odd.
He still looked like a supermodel.
He still walked like a supermodel.
But he didn’t smell like a supermodel.
Hmmmm. It seems rough play with one of the “country” dogs landed Carmel Macchiato in some bushes. My theory is that a skunk had sprayed the bushes not too long before Carmel doddered through them, leaving Carmel—how shall I say this—rather ripe.
I want to tell you a story. I have lots of stories because I board dogs. I love dogs. I board them at my house. Don’t get me wrong I don’t keep them in kennels; I keep them in my living room and my bedroom.
Their favorite room is the kitchen I think, when I’m cooking, of course, or maybe it’s under the dining room table when my family and I are eating dinner. With two boys eating meals, there are always spills and food landing on dog heads.
Moondoggie the rat-chaser
Actually, food never lands on my dog’s head—she just catches it and eats it before gets near her head.
Besides loving dogs, I also love to garden. The problem is the two don’t mix—dogs and gardens—they don’t mix at all.
I was inspecting the only part of my garden that I consider to be filled in and planted the way I like it—a huge raised bed attached to the side of my house.
I was almost finished with this part of my garden. There’s no dirt visible—this is what I consider finished, if you can’t see dirt. To my horror, I noticed a cement column with a cement container on top had fallen over, taking with it a fuchsia tree, a princess plant, and a couple of azaleas on it’s way down.
I couldn’t figure out what had happened.
I happened to be with a friend of mine. When my shock wore off I walked toward the side door of my house. I was standing at the bottom of the steps of my side door deck.
Through the corner of my eye, I saw my dog followed by a dog I was dog-sitting, Willie (part lab, part freight train) both jump into the raised bed. I turned to tell them to get out when something came hurtling from the raised bed towards me.
I thought it was a ball; something that one of the dogs had grabbed and lost their grip on sending it flying in my direction.