Flowers and Treats

We had a very domestic day around here yesterday, as you can see. It was sunny and warm enough for Olga and me to sit out in the garden, where I read (and finished) "Long Island Compromise." I really enjoyed it and now I'm passing it along to several of my co-workers.

As you can see, the dahlias are still going, both in the garden...

...and on the patio.

The canna lily also came out with its first flower of the season -- in October! I really thought it wouldn't bloom at all but it managed.

And our purple anemone is blooming up a storm too, even though a chunk of the plant died earlier this year (and it has that big ol' fern frond growing overtop of it).

I cleaned the house yesterday afternoon, including vacuuming out the fireplace in the bedroom, which I don't think I've ever done. It's not a usable fireplace so there were no ashes in it, but it was full of dust and ten-year-old Olga hair. I'm not sure why I've never cleaned it out before, except that one doesn't usually clean inside a fireplace. You know how you just stop seeing things over time? And then I looked at it critically and saw that the grate was downright shaggy. Now it's clean as a whistle.

Of course I took Olga on a couple of walks, but just to the corner to sniff the trash. She would go no farther.

Oh, here's a little mystery. The last two or three nights Olga has wanted to go out in the middle of the night several times. I've always thought she hears foxes out there, but her hearing isn't so great anymore, so maybe she smells them? Anyway, she's been a pain in the neck, waking me up to let her out the door.

Last night, I went out with her and she began rooting around in a flowerpot at the back of the garden near the bench. I found her gnawing in the dark on this mysterious dog treat (above) that was somehow buried in the flowerpot. We've found weird dog treats (not ours) in the garden before, usually buried, and I've always blamed the foxes -- I think it's too large for a squirrel to bury. Someone must be leaving them out for the foxes and the foxes, for some foolish reason, bring them to us.

Anyway, I took it away from her and left it on the garden wall, where the foxes climb into the garden from next door, so if they want it they can take it. I doubt that it would hurt Olga but I'd rather she stick to her own treats.

Here she is with one of hers. Dave and I both laugh at the sounds she makes when she's eating them. She doesn't do that when she eats normal food. I guess it's because she has to breathe during the chewing, rather than taking breaths between bites?

And now Olga is beseeching me for another walk. She is no doubt eager to sniff more trash. (Insert eye-roll emoji here: 🙄)