Yesterday I forgot that it was also the first day of my Whole30. So far, so great. I had some banana pieces last night and am still trying to figure out how much food I ought to eat, but I like the process and I am really glad that I’m doing something good for myself. Also, it is much less painful than breaking in ballet shoes. Damn all shoes that are not Brooks’ XC flats size 6.5! Damn them all!
In addition to the first day news listed below and above, yesterday also marked the beginning of the first full week of Boomer’s age of one year old. What a pup!
Celebrations include a raw food diet (small poops hooray!) , explorations with Aby and I in tow, toys galore (including the scariest cow toy I’ve ever laid eyes on; I am fairly certain it was modeled after a bovine hyped up on GMO and antibiotics) and bird-hunting.
Yesterday we found a bird family: mom, pop, and chicks-with-new-found-flight. Boom and I chased the darlings across the field to tree after tree, until the two little ones happened to light on a baby evergreen. Boomer could see them through the needles, but they were out of reach even when she balanced high on her hind feet. Thus I joined the game, shaking the branches and whooping, prompting the scared-senseless teenage chicks to flit from limb to limb. Boomer chased them gamely, circling the tree, pawing the air, nose erect and tail stiff with anticipation. Several minutes into our play, I fear I was too vigorous with my disturbance and one of the plump fluffy fellows took desperate flight to a nearby, apparently safer, tree.
The bird dropped before he could strain himself upward, and Boomer was ready with eager open jaws. Almost too late, I yanked her back, granting the little bird life and depriving my pup of her hard-earned prize.
Who am I to have a say in life and death?
A weighty question. In any case, Boomer suffered disappointment for but a moment, and we pranced happily onward, heading home.