Not that cute

Not when they're crawling in your walls. I sat down just now to book a flight for a press check in couple of weeks and heard – hear, am hearing at this moment – the sound of tiny paws scratching inside the wall right next to me. Damn.

Just yesterday we were talking with a neighbor about the various issues that come up when you live out here with all the creatures – skunks, coyotes, raccoons, rats – and she remarked that it's been awhile since everyone had all those rats a few years ago. We all agreed it had been a huge relief when that infestation finally ended. And now this.

Well, maybe it's not another infestation. Maybe it's just a sign of spring – new baby animals and all. Everything is blooming like crazy right now, or getting ready to. Our peach tree is covered in the most beautiful bright pink flowers, and one of the roads I ride to work on is lined with plum and almond trees that have been showering me with sweet pink and white petals every morning.

Even after living here for almost 14 years, I still haven't gotten used to it arriving so early in the year. Just when fall seems to be turning into winter, it's like the world skips ahead several months and I find myself suddenly in springtime again. I know that's how it works here, but it still feels like a surprise every time.

We've been getting a lot done in the yard lately, laying the groundwork for some bigger projects that will be completed gradually over the next few years. I just finished a big project at work so my schedule there should be back to the new normal again starting tomorrow – basically, a four-day work week now instead of five, which is turning out to be exactly perfect for the way I like to work.

The dogs are good, or as good as can be expected, which I guess maybe is not as good as I would like. Actually, Tater is fine; it's the Jeeps who's not doing so well. Today he fell down at least 20 times – it seemed like every time I turned around he was on the ground again – and could not get back up without help, not even one time. He's been falling for awhile, but today it felt different. Usually he either manages to haul himself up somehow on his own, or patiently lies there until one of us helps him. Today for the first time I got the distinct feeling that he was really hurting, and that he's ... well, it felt like he's getting tired of living like this. He just seems worn out.

Mr. A and I are both traveling for work in the next few weeks and I don't know what we're going to do with him on the one day when we're both away at the same time. Usually we just have the sitter in twice a day, but I don't feel safe leaving him alone for that much time in his present condition. It's possible we may be able to get someone to actually come stay at the house that night.

His appetite is still good and he still wants to go with us on walks, though I'm starting to think that might not be such a good idea anymore. Even a walk to the mailbox and back seems to exhaust him. On the other hand, I don't want him to feel rejected or excluded from the activities he enjoys the most, if he still wants to do them. I guess if he ever stops trying to come with us, we'll know he's done having fun. Until then I'll just plan on continuing to accommodate him as well as I can for as long as he's here.

He's never been the most affectionate or companionable dog – that's more Tater's role – but the more attention he needs just to get through the day, the more I get used to thinking of him, trying to anticipate what he might need, looking for him whenever I enter or leave a room, wondering whether he's warm enough, hoping he doesn't fall when we're not there to help him get back up again .... It's sure going to feel strange when he finally isn't here anymore.