The most horrific day of the year has passed, but the after-effects will last until next spring. The day is like a blizzard that arrives the same day every year. You know it is coming, you try to prepare for it, but it still shatters your life, leaving it in tatters. It is the 23 hour day. It is the day the Earth tips on its axis. It is the day when we are forced to eat an hour later. It makes the night come earlier. It makes humans grumble. They call it either “return to standard time,” or “daylight savings time end.” Any day with standard and end, it is bound to suck.
Pocket and I do enjoy our daily walks. They have become more essential with my weight gain, which, I can now admit, was done for a movie role. Look for Benji Gets His Ass Kicked By a Griffon later this year.
Now that the role is over, I need some road work to lose the extra weight. Our schedule makes the time before supper optimum for walking. Mommy is not as mobile as she used to be, so she leaves the exercising to Daddy and us little dogs. When she makes supper, we go for our daily constitutional. Now, thanks to the big Standard Time lobby in Washington, we have to walk in the dark.
In the summer months we walk near the old barn, and the big field in front of our development but it is too dark in standard time. Instead, we take one trip around our quiet block
My Dad doesn’t mind walking with us in the dark. When it is light, we bark at everything we see. We also live near a lot of people who like to walk, and they are always jamming up the road. When we see someone, Pocket, I bark like mad, hoping to get their attention.
There are a lot of seniors where we live, and like reverse vampires, they can’t go out in the dark, so we don’t see anyone walking at night. There are also no dogs tied outside to bark at us and interrupt the peaceful enjoyment of our walk.
The biggest fear, when you are a nightwalker, is getting hit by a careless driver. When we go out at 5:30, most of the residents have retired for the evening, and those who are driving move so slowly we could beat them in a 50-yard dash.
Daddy always has the flashlight on his phone illuminated, so we walk with a spotlight on us like we are starlets. It helps him watch over his two lovely ladies, it keeps us from stepping on anything sharp, and it is invaluable in finding our poop buried in colorful leaves.
If you in our neighborhood just after dusk, and you see two cute starlets walking on a leash, give them a wide berth because they are your two favorite small dogs on their evening constitutional.