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This Day in My History

  Weird Night
Come Out, Come Out, Whoever You Are

 Blessed are the Peacemakers
2004:  A New Reason to Diet

2005:  Exciting E-mail

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29 Fragile Days
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Living with the Fallas
Minnesota Stories
PJK Productions
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Concetta turns 65

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16 March 2006

As I sit here at my desk, I can hear the "clip-clip-clip" of Kimba's toenails on the Pergo.  She's on the move again.

Watching her casually throughout the day, one would hardly think of Kimba as anything but a lump who is spending her life sleeping, perhaps just waiting to die.

But I've come to realize that Kimba probably gets more exercise per day, pound for pound, than I do.  Now, granted that's not saying much.  Dust bunnies get more exercise per day than I do, but Kimba gets a lot more exercise than I realized before.


It's the eternal quest for food.

Kimba's whole life is devoted to finding bits of food (or edible substances that she thinks are food) that others have forgotten and she will let nothing stand in her way.

She learned early in life that when I am in the kitchen there is usually food involved.  She also learned early in life that sitting on the floor looking up at me with a plantive gaze, hoping for treats was useless, but standing and looking at the floor around my feet often yielded bountiful treasures.  It's one of the blessings of living with a klutz, for a dog.  Lots of goodies fall to the floor and, when you're in the kitchen, most of them are edible.

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When I am on the move, Kimba is on the move.  If I stand up, she stands up.  If I walk around the house, she walks around the house.  But then she takes off routinely on tours of the house herself, looking to see if maybe there is something she missed.

Tap-tap-tap, click-click-click go the toenails, the nose always to the ground.

She regularly checks out the "bag of bags," a paper grocery bag with other grocery bags folded up inside of it.  The paper bags are a veritable cornucopia of smells and who knows when one of them is going to lead to something that might be edible, or at least lickable.  We're always finding the bag of bags knocked over, sometimes with Kimba's tail sticking out the back of it, her nose inside looking for goodies.

The laundry room drives her nuts because that's where I store the SPCA puppy food, which she can smell, but can't get to.

The other day I spilled a box that had some filler styrofoam pellets in it.  I missed some of them when I cleaned up the mess and Kimba decided that these were doggie Cheetos.  She spent days trying to get to the pellets (ok--ok--yeah, I should have moved furniture and made sure they were all cleaned up.  Don't interrupt me).  She ended up pushing the table that my little office TV is on aside, and unplugging both the TV and the cable box in trying to check and make sure that all the pellets were gone.

Remember that this is a tiny dog!

And then there is the garbage bin where I keep the dog food.  It's in the kitchen and, being the klutz that I am, when I feed the dogs, sometimes a pellet or two will fall on the floor and disappear behind the bin, which sits next to the plastic multi-tiered bin-thingy where I keep the dishtowels.

This is what it looks like usually...

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The other night, I came out into the kitchen and this is what it looked like:

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Whatever she was looking for, she must have found.  I'm sure there is nothing left behind any of the furniture --or in the bag of bags-- but I was amazed that she could just gently push all that furniture aside in her constant quest for food.

Much as she would like to have us believe that she is a deaf lump who really lives in a world of her own and doesn't acknowledge our existence, Kimba daily shows that she has more life and more awareness in her than we have assumed for years.



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A good catch


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