For the love of dog

It's much too warm to set in the agapanthus plants I bought on Thursday, but that's one of the next tasks.  Driving around town I realized that I was the only person without agapanthus somewhere by my home.  It must be the most popular flower we grow here in northern California.

Brix, the suicidal dog, struck again.  I went outside to see Steve's grill completely tipped over and the drip pan spotless.  I'm guessing someone might have a tummy ache later, but I agree that last night's chops were as good as they must have smelled to a dog forever on the prowl.

In the meantime, I have to laugh at Misty, one of our guests this week.  She's a blue heeler and her DNA forces her to herd.  I walk to the kitchen for a glass of water, look down, and she is there.  I go outside to gather the mail and walk into the house, she is by the door, waiting.  I get dressed, she is there.  I draw, she is there.  I mean, Misty is the quintessential Eternal Presence.  She'd make a great service god.