Doin' the Stroll

Although it's been consistently overcast today, it hasn't been particularly chilly. It was pleasant enough, in fact, that Ralph and I wandered about in the park area back of the building this evening. I didn't even bother to throw on a jacket and Ralph, of course, was comfy in his fur coat.

Squirrelly, though. When one is out on a stroll with Ralph, one has to be on the lookout for sudden bursts of irrational racing hither and yon and cleverly staged ambushes from behind a clump of pampas grass -- or even from behind a clump of daisies. Ralph doesn't care if you see him coming, as long as you keep on coming so he can attack.

In between these mini-spells of madness, he will stroll sedately along, as dignified as a dowager headed for church. The only evidence you have that the serene demeanor will not last is the steady switching of his tail, so vigorous you can almost hear a faint whip crack.

Sometimes he follows me like a puppy but it's the most fun when he strolls in front. See, the hair is short from his ankles down but it's longer from the ankles up. Makes him look like he's wearing furry pantaloons. I tried to catch that effect. Got the swishing tail and got a bit of the cutie-pie profile as he glanced to the right but there is only a hint of the pantaloons. Sorry. I'll have to sneak a shot when he's strolling up the stairs ahead of me.

You know, there is probably a well-deserved ring of Hell for people who take unflattering pictures of their fur kids. On the other hand, this might be the only way I can get even for the way Ralph strolls across my body each morning when he wants me to get up at o' dark-thirty because his damn food dish is empty. It wouldn't be so bad but he's wearing heavy boots and stomps a lot. If I ever figure out where he hides those boots ...