Day 2134

I found the stuff Janet wanted at the storage warehouse. It was a children's game we'd created a number of years ago where kids could add a spot to a large outline drawing of a Dalmatian. I can't remember what the point of this game was, but the children seemed to enjoy it. The life sized drawing of the Dalmatian with no spots had been printed on a piece of white corrugated plastic and there were black vinyl spots that could be applied to the dog. Unfortunately, I couldn't find the spots. Maybe they didn't even exist anymore. I did remember where I'd had the poster printed, so I drove over to the printer and asked them if they still had any of the peel apart black vinyl they'd given me to make the spots in the first place.

"Who is your account representative," said a girl I'd never seen before. "I don't know," I replied. "I've had quite a few over the years." She looked up my account and seemed surprised to discover dozens and dozens of job orders for various posters and signs. I used to come to this place frequently back when I had a lot of retail clients. I was probably doing posters before this girl was born. Once it was established that I was an ancient, but quite legitimate customer, the girl was very helpful and found me exactly what I needed. She gave me the tail end of a roll of black vinyl peel apart material, saying that they didn't use the stuff anymore. I bet I was the one who started using this roll, many years ago.

I took a small check to the bank and then drove over to the post office and paid some large bills. I wish I was taking large checks to the bank and paying small bills, but that not the way it works anymore. If I was following the script I was given, I would have retired gracefully to a gated community or a beautiful cabin in Taos. I've never followed the script however. It sucks to realize that you are slowly becoming irreverent, but at least I haven't had a heart attack, a nervous breakdown, or been denied coverage for an essential surgery. All these things have happened to friends of mine, so I really shouldn't complain that my business is going down the toilet. "You need to find a hobby," I hear people tell me. It's hard to explain to these people that for all these years my business actually has been my hobby. I made an entire career out of doing stuff I thought was fun.

Dot is off schedule again. She can go about six hours without pooping in the house, but if she happens to go at an odd time, it almost guarantees that there will be an accident later. Today, she didn't go on her morning walk, because we'd stayed up late the night before and she pooped in the back yard just before we all went to bed. I spent the rest of the morning waiting for the inevitable mess, and sure enough, Dot pooped in her bed about 10:30 AM. At least Dot's stools are nice and firm. If Dash ever starts this kind of behavior when he gets older it's going to be a disaster.

If I was writing this blog thirty years ago, it would be full of pretentious talk about first class airline tickets and fancy restaurants. Now I spend my time writing about dog poop. Maybe this is what Karma is all about. I was kind of an asshole in my younger years. It makes sense in an odd sort of way that the karmic debt would be paid by cleaning up dog poop. It's been a learning experience, but what I've learned has been good. I just hope I'm half as graceful about aging as Dot has been. Nobody lives in the moment better than dogs. Dot can't run and jump anymore. She can barely walk. Even with her diminished abilities, I can tell that every morning is a new day. She wakes up happy to be alive and goes about her business doing whatever she can. An old dog would be a good role model for all of us.

Diva is today's Dalmatian of the Day

Watch of the Day