Or something like that...don't know what ails Willow lately and wish I could understand.

Last night she barked for an hour despite our coming out to see what was wrong. We checked to see if there was a fire, or the stove left on, or something dangerous, then as I was about to open a window to see if something outside was bothering her, I saw one of those wretched palmetto bugs running around the floor. I screamed (like always) and usually she pounces on them, but this time she seemed disinterested, so I killed it myself.

She always chased them and killed them at the old house. Too weird.

Just now she was eating and suddenly came dashing out of the kitchen like a skinned rabbit, staring behind her. Fearing another insect invasion—probably it climbed up the deck posts and came under the door—I checked her bowl, but it's okay. But she'll only eat with me there. Otherwise she sits and stares at the archway to the kitchen with a suspicious look on her face.

Labels: dogs, pets

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:35:00 PM

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