Day 1328

It's a shame to drive thirty minutes to a nice dog park, only to find an overly aggressive dog getting in fights with the other dogs when you get there. This doesn't happen every week, but it certainly happens more often than I'd like. Usually, the owners of these aggressive dogs aren't even apologetic about their dog's deplorable behavior. They'll typically pull the fighting dogs apart, then let the instigator go right back to mingling with the other dogs like it was the most normal thing in the world. Meanwhile, Dot and Dash are huddled in one corner of the park until the mean dogs leave. As far as I'm concerned, there are no bad dog breeds, but there are plenty of bad dog owners.

Yes, I'll admit I'm geeky enough that I turned on the TV this afternoon to catch a live special where the BBC announced the identity of the next Dr. Who. Will Peter Capaldi make a good Dr. Who? He's certainly a lot older than recent era doctors, but I've enjoyed watching him in The Thick of It. He'll probably make a very good Twelfth Doctor. I'm pretty accepting of these changes anyway. After each regeneration, I usually completely forget about the previous doctor in a matter of weeks.

I got a little lesson in how automated our lives have become this afternoon. I had to go to Home Depot to pick up some odds and ends. The furnace filters and grass seed didn't present a problem, but there was only one of the little stainless steel sink strainers I needed left in the plumbing department and it didn't have a UPC code. I told the checkout clerk what the price was, but he couldn't ring the item up without a bar code to scan. After several unsuccessful attempts to enter the price manually, he just gave me the strainer. Apparently, it just wasn't worth the effort to sell something without a bar code.

I'm not sleeping well. I can't blame it on the dogs anymore either. Dot and Dash have been sleeping quietly all week, even leaving me plenty of room in the bed for a change. I'm still waking up with bad dreams in my head. I've never gone through such a sustained period of bad dreams. When I was young, I had fabulous dreams where I could fly. Then I went through an odd period where I dreamed I was walking from one city to another and could remember every step of the journey. Now, the dreams are just a jumbled mess. Nothing works. I'm lost in giant hotels. My dogs run away. I'm playing with my old band, but we can never get our instruments tuned. I'm looking for a restroom, but they are all occupied. There are never any monsters. Just a lot of small irritations that keep piling up until they eventually wake me. Sometime it's hard to tell when the dream ends and real life begins.

Pebbles is today's Dalmatian of the Day

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