The one bird I can count on

Written last night:

My goal: entice Zing to stay in his crate quietly, no matter what. He and I spent lots of time, eye-to-eye on the floor. He may be taking possession of his crate home, but when I closed and locked it, he freaked.


An alarm company guy kindly said he’d knock on my door before they made any noise so I can whisk Zing out for a walk. It will be tomorrow, he said.

While I was down in the lobby I ran into Steve, the large, imposing man who works for the HOA. Steve told me my upstairs neighbor had reported on Zing’s bark.  When I told Steve that Zing missed Clark I began to cry. (I don’t do that often anymore, but sometimes tears spring on me.)That is exactly the way I do not want to appear to this guy. I want to appear strong. Maybe I did, after the tears stopped. 

I then worked ferociously at getting things done around here: sinks, shelves, bills … details to hold our tiny household together. Thank goodness for the phone talks with Mary and Mona!

At about 6 a.m. when Zing and I stepped outside, the light was just breaking. and crows were convening in the treetops. Lots of people love crows and I’ve got to find out why, because they seem to be the one bird I can count on around here.