Rabbits on the Moon

When I was very small, probably four or so, maybe even younger, I would, on occasion, spend the night at my grandparent’s house. They lived in a retirement type community, with a metal screen door and a chair on the porch. This was before they moved to San Diego, for my grandmother’s health. When they moved, I remember getting to ride the empty dolly from the truck back to the house. Before they moved though, I would sometimes spend the night there, and I vividly remember being very small and having my grandpa show me the rabbit on the moon. It took me a while to see it, and I remember first lying and saying that I could, and then, a few seconds later, I actually could. My grandpa was also the person who taught me that I have to let go to the peanuts if I want to get my hand out of the jar. At four, I guess I wasn’t much smarter than a raccoon.

Actually, I don’t know how honestly true that is. In Where the Red Fern Grows, they talk about how a raccoon won’t let go of something, so you could capture them by getting their hands stuck. I’ve never even had the desire to hunt raccoons, so I’ve never taken the opportunity to find out for myself if you really can catch them that way, or if it is simply a clever literary device.

There was a coyote in our backyard this morning, and it was beautiful. It had a little white tuft at the end of it’s tail, with a skinny black ring separating the white fur from the sandy brown. They’re so lanky, coyotes, and they have such lovely long faces. Our dogs didn’t think the coyote was gorgeous, they though it was an intruder. Fortunately, there was a fence between them.

Fur texture on dogs is a funny thing. We had a beautiful sheltie, named Charlie, and she had soft, fluty fur that was long, but the individual strands were thin and wavy. Our short-coated shepherd, Patriot, has stiff outer hairs that are a few inches long, and our long-coated shepherd, Sheila, has long hairs that are in between Patriot and Charlie’s fur in terms of stiffness. My boyfriend’s dog, Zobby though has fur that when you pet him feels slick (if not soft) but when taken individually is downright bristly.

The main thing that I dislike about winter is how itchy my skin gets. Last night as I tried to go to sleep it felt like there were a billion little pins poking through my pajamas, and it sucked. I also dreamt that I missed my first class this morning. When I woke up this morning, and got in my car, I left on time, but due to extraordinary traffic, I ended up being a little late anyway. While trying to exit the freeway, a person (very rudely) zipped around me and used the shoulder to get off the freeway. Then they ran a stop sign. I found it interesting, when I caught up with them, that they had a little tiny Jesus fish up in the corner. It reminded me of the time I was cut off hard-core by a large SUV and got to watch the driver toss a lit cigarette out the window into the leaf-strewn gutter during fire season, and they had a prominent W, a Jesus fish, and an anti-choice bumper sticker.

I’ve been meaning to repaint my toenails for months, and it still hasn’t happened, and while this shouldn’t come as a surprise to me, it still made me sad when I stepped into the shower this morning.