Dragonflies, Cheese Puffs
Those of us who live in unglaciated southern Ohio are nuts for water. We're on a deprivation diet. The nearest large expanse of water is the Ohio River, which is a huge, muddy highway for barges. I make a point of driving by the riverside as much as possible whenever I go to town, just to feast my eyes on it. There's always something interesting out on the water, be it a gull, a barge, or a sternwheeler.
Because BOTB is a Pisces, there's almost always water in our vacation plans. On Saturday, we took our one-man canoes out on a weedy lake. There were dragonflies EVERYWHERE. And all of them were getting it on.
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I had this vision of taking Chet Baker for a nice long paddle in the canoe. I lifted him in, and he lifted himself right back out. And, having refused a ride, he was not pleased to see me paddle off in a canoe for the first time. He dithered on the boat launch for a moment, then launched himself into the water. A brachycephalic dog swimming is not a pretty sight. Bulging eyes, snorgling nose, frantic expression: I had to ask Phoebe to hold him until I went around the bend.
When I got back, Baker was happily burying something in the wet, muddy bank.
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