Patti Soldavini


In Uncategorized on 02/13/2011 at 6:49 pm

Yesterday morning on our daily walk through town past the local college, a sustained gust of wind propelled an empty cardboard box toward Olive and I as if it were a tumbleweed. Olive, alerted to the approaching intruder assumes a hair trigger fight or flight stance. She reminds me of a track and field athlete in starting position awaiting the sound of the gun to release her. Leave it to Olive to vogueishly “strike a pose” in response to a cardboard monster. This is going to be good, I think. If it heads straight for us, my dog is going to put on a display worthy of a Cirque du Soleil performance. I stand alongside Olive waiting to see what comes next. The box continues to tumble toward us, end over end, side over side. It reminds me of the feather in the movie Forest Gump and the plastic bag in the movie “American Beauty.” Olive doesn’t move a muscle. To my dismay, the box tumbles to the left and past us, but not before Olive executes a spasmodic little jig never taking her eyes off Boxzilla. Thanks for another chuckle today Olive. It was almost as funny as watching you try to take a poop later that day and finding it difficult to get traction on the ice. You looked a little like a constipated Kristi Yamaguchi spinning out of control.


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