I Dislike Water On Me But It Doesn’t Matter To Anybody

I am to be brought back to the underwater treadmill, which is rubbish.  I don’t care about my knee.  I don’t want to go in the bloody tank.  Just let me kill some animals so I can get some endorphins happening.

But no. She will haul me in for near drowning no doubt because my knee went clunky the other day.  This would not have happened had I not been forced to walk across the state of California and also repeatedly sprayed with water, to the point of crinkly fur.   Ironically,  I have been effectively rained out of reasonable walkies for two days straight.  My luck with water is lately atrocious.

On the not-entirely-crap side of the ledger, spectacular array of fauna at the marina the other day, including this naïve infant.

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And these giant, not very fast, yet sadly out of range bird things.













Finally, no Ginkgo for weeks, only this pale imitation and various assorted grindingly boring dogs.

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