Smoke, a New Bed, a Hurt Paw, and Some Poetry

It’s smokey Friday morning here in North Dakotaland thanks to the Canadian wildfires.

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I’m easing my way into a short vacation before the bustle of the fall semester begins, but I’d be remiss not to celebrate the yellow dog’s eighth birthday (or that day that we celebrate his eighth birthday). We got him a new bed which he really enjoys (note his brother’s nose photobombing the scene in the background):

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Milo is in pretty good health, good spirits, and only occasionally feeling his age. Yesterday, for example, he’s pretty sure that he hurt his paw. I don’t doubt his assessment of the situation, but he was able to shake it off in time to lunge at a squirrel, stop abruptly to sniff a clump of grass, and track the scent of some deer.

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If you’re looking for something summery to read and my rambling about my dog and the weather doesn’t float your boat, check out some of the late Donald Junkins’s poetry over at the North Dakota Quarterly blog. His Swan’s Island Journal offers a chance to visit the Maine coast in July and August and settle into an Adirondack chair and indulge in some midsummer reverie.  

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