A stretch of river XIX: Request post

After yesterday's class, a student came up to me and asked, "Has anyone publicly admitted this semester that they read your blog?"

Me: No, not yet.
She: Well, I have. But I didn't see any posts about walking your dog.

Sigh. I gain a reader, but she wants to read about my dog.

::reminds self about gift horses and mouths::

I told her where the search box for good old Blog Meridian is located (towards the very bottom of the right-hand gutter, all you Scruffy fans). Note to my students: in utilizing the Search function you're actually employing a basic skill you'll need for Comp II. This blog is a regular virtual classroom.

Anyway. This post is for my student . . . but the rest of you are welcome to read it, too (like I could stop you even if I wanted to).

From Monday up to today, Scruffy has not been his usual animated self. I'll not go into detail regarding the recent behavior of his gastrointestinal system, but suffice it to say that whatever is the matter with him has been manifesting itself in empirically-apprehensible ways as well as through his temperament. So: to the vet clinic we'll go this morning to see what's going on with him.

Our walks these past few days, then, have not been their usual happy (for him) romps through a scented world I am completely oblivious to. Indeed, whenever he has wanted to linger over a smell now, it's as though he's afraid of it rather than curious about it. This morning, I found myself wondering about that: if that behavior is a result of his weakened state, if he lingers for so long and is so cautious because he wants to determine whether that scent is from an animal that could harm him. The old ways, embedded in DNA or the dog memes we call "instinct," would naturally make themselves known at such times, would they not?

Anyway, rest assurred that I as Scruffy's de facto publicist will be sure to keep his many fans apprised of his condition.

On to other matters now.

The leaves haven't yet begun to turn, but the days have turned cooler, with highs reaching only the 80s for the foreseeable future. Fall is on its way. One of the things I like best about living here, I'm pretty sure I've said before, is that we have four discernible seasons here, something I didn't experience while growing up in Texas or living in Alabama. So that gradual slide into a new season has begun. Cool. In every sense of that word.