Gimp Paw.

In the course of the morning show — massive stretching, sneezing, snarfling, small and big barks, bouncing, sharp expulsions of air — the dog gimps up her paw. Nothing serious, no cries, no whines, but the scared face and a nice heavy limp. Great way to start the day. So we solve it the only way we know how: dog walk.

And once we're out in the wind and the cold (it hovered right around freezing last night; this morning we've got sharp winter sun and low forties and a fairly serious breeze out of the NNW) she's fine, she's her old self, digging with all four feet in the leaves and grass and mulch. She likes to squint into the sun and wind and pant and taste what's coming in. Pretty sure I'd like that, too.

Down the street is what I hope is not an eviction: Bags of clothes and boxes and boxes full of coat hangers. A ruined blue plastic rocking horse. A few other boxes. It all got rained on yesterday. And on the way to work: A building going up, and out front of it several palettes of drywall, also rained on yesterday. Everybody always a half-step away from disaster.