Today has been absolutely stunning, weather-wise. The temperature’s creeping up into the low seventies, and the air is crisp and clear thanks to the three days of miserably cold rain we’ve just slogged through. Samson is greatly relieved that he can now do his business in relative comfort instead of being dragged out into the torturous drizzle.

The other morning, between rainstorms, I was out walking Sam when an older lady passed us on the sidewalk. I flashed the quick smile I usually exchange with people I pass on walks, but she was clearly up for some chit-chat. “What are you doing out in this weather, girl?!” she half-shrieked. I didn’t know what to say because, um, this guy at the end of the leash? He needs to poop. And he can’t be trusted to keep himself out of trouble on the way. So that’s what I’m doing. But maybe she was making conversation, so I laughed politely.

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