It is one of those gluey mornings. My eyes, the espresso handle, my slippers on a few tomato sauce spots on the kitchen floor. Some days objects and thoughts slip through my fingers like cash at the Manolo shoe store; other days everything sticks like life is a huge cow pie in a tiny little cow pasture .
My AM coffee foam, (after I wrestled the recalcitrant sticky machine handle into submission) was an eye opener.
A dog is reaching into his food dish and, searching for treats, throws kibble to the four winds in an attempt to “find the good stuff,” His ears and jowls blur with his frenzied head shaking, kibble rattling efforts.
To stick or not to stick, that is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the gluey feet and handles of oppression or take jaws against a bowl of kibbles and by up-nosing end them?
So, I’m off to:
#1- Clean off those sticky spots in the kitchen.
#2- Find some kibble dishes to upend. I’m thinking that with all the kibble in the world there must be a few chunks of real meat out there somewhere........
© Robin Wendell 2009