Firstly, we are about to enter March, which out here means, “the-month-in-which-the-damn-wind-never-stops-blowing.” Or something along those lines. The wind kicked up last night, and has yet to abate. These are gale force winds, and they rip the sand from the ground and drive it forcefully up your nostrils, into your eyes, into your ears, and into your underwear. It is most uncomfortable. Sans wind, the weather would be lovely. As it stands, it was a miserable day.
My house is overrun by four-legged (and one three-legged) creatures. NalaBean is sleeping by the papasan having just devoured a cow foot (I boiled it with bread for her first); this activity consumed the better part of two hours, in which she could only be distracted for a brief tummy rub. Rollo, because he has no manners, was given his boiled-cow-foot-and-bread-broth mixture outside, since he steals NalaBean’s food whenever possible.
I frequently wake up at 3 a.m. to find myself asleep on my left side, and sleeping in front of me, all in a row, are three cats; behind me, in two large, stinky lumps, two dogs, each of which meets or exceeds 50 pounds.
I asked a four-year-old today how old she was. She grinned and said, “Four.” “Great!” I said. “Do you know what your birthday is?” She grinned wider, and wiggled in that uncomfortable way that children do when they are about to make something up because they do not know the answer. “I don’t have one.”
Nala has just buried her nose under the edge of the couch and fallen asleep. She is a strange dog. Rollo is out chasing cars that drive by. I am glad Rollo is here with me now on the reservation; as he has recovered from various and sundry illnesses, he has become far more protective of me, especially around men, and he actually lunged at someone the other day because I walked too close to the poor guy. No one can approach my house without me hearing about it long in advance. But I don’t think I can bring him to the city — he strongly prefers the outdoors, he is very big, and he’s aggressive. Nala might do fine (if we can find an apartment that takes dogs), but Rollo will need to be given to a trustworthy soul here in town, or taken to the no-kill shelter in Flagstaff for adoption. It makes me sad to think that I will give up my first dog, but bringing him to the city would do him nothing but harm.
I realized that my time with Rollo would be short the day that I purchased his nametag and attached it to his collar — I secretly knew that I was buying it because I was afraid he would be run over by one of the trucks he constantly chases, and all I could ask was that someone would bring him home to me so I wouldn’t have to worry anymore.
I ran over a bunny near Black Mesa Mine on my way back from Phoenix last week. It ran across the road in front of me and I couldn’t swerve. I felt terrible about it. And as I pulled in my driveway, the dogs ran up to….greet me?….nope…to smell the tires on the side of the car that had run over the bunny. Gack.
Adam left another edict on the answering machine yesterday. “Just so you know, we are NEVER EVER going to a tanning salon. There is absolutely no good reason to walk around Wisconsin during the winter looking like a CARROT.”
To conclude, a short list of some of the things that you cannot purchase in Kayenta:
-Fresh beets (canned? sure! picked? sure! fresh? go to Page).
-Natural peanut butter (Jif galore, tho)
A short list of the many things you CAN buy at Basha’s (local grocery store):
-Salt licks for horses
-Pellets for pellet stoves
-Cows tongues (have you ever seen them? They’re HUGE)
-Any type of Mexican food your little heart desires
I’m going to go take a shower now and wash the sand out of my hair.