Weapons of Mass Wackiness

At first I thought it was an errant Cheeto puff, but the ping-pong sized orange ball rolled across the sidewalk when I nudged it with my toe.  It stood out not only because of the color, but because it was a disruption to my morning routine of walking my dog.  I bent over to pick it up, curious as to its textured surface: pockmarked and squishy.  

Now that I was holding it, it reminded me less of a Cheeto puff or a ping-pong ball and more of a rubber bouncy ball.  The kind commonly found in quarter machines or in dentist office treasure chests.  A reward for proper brushing dropped carelessly by a child as they headed inside yesterday?  Maybe. 

I threw it down, watched it bounce high once, and then -- roll away.

Hurlyburly Hurricane

I woke not to the sound of the storms outside, but to my dog barking.  Surprising, considering just how hard the wind was blowing the rain against the windows. But, Cooper decided he HAD to go out.  

I joke that he is an old man and one of the many reasons for that slight is the fact that he always seems to need to get up in the middle of the night to pee.  There are many nights where I am awoken by the slight jingle of his collar as he gets down from the bed to go drink from his bowl and then wake me up to let me know he has to go outside to relieve himself.  

That's on a good night when he actually bothers to wake me up of course.  All things considered though -- I'll take a wake up to having to spray the carpet.

This time, however, I tried to convince him otherwise.  Especially when I walked past my sliding glass door and saw just how violent the weather outside was.  It wasn't tornado level (thankfully), but it looked like the kind of weather that one should stay in bed as opposed to stepping outside and immediately getting soaked or worse.  I said as much to Cooper but, being a dog, he barked his insistence for the outdoors.