My neighbor Tim, who takes care of our mowers, passed me while I was out walking a couple days ago, and gave me a couple mower-starting tips. I'd been thinking that he was successful because he is at least a foot taller than I am, and more than likely 10 times as strong. He says it's because I don't prime the mower properly. So I'll be trying his technique next week. Film at eleven.
And speaking of wildlife ... I saw our dogs playing with something when I got home from the grocery yesterday. Turns out it was this baby fox. No mother in sight; she must have been hanging out with the baby turtles' mother.
The Spousal Equivalent and I decided to try to capture the little guy in a box and release him down by our pond, which is far away from the house and dogs. We weren't fast enough, though. He started running, and our old, arthritic dog, Molly, suddenly had more energy than she's had in five years. We think she broke the little guy's back.
We feel horrible about it, but are trying to comfort ourselves with the fact that we tried. One or both dogs surely would have killed it eventually if we'd left it in the yard. Molly and Hershey have both brought home dead treasures before; we know they have the instinct. Mostly mice and moles, but one time Molly treed a groundhog [bet you didn't know – or care – they could climb trees, did you?] and killed it when it eventually fell.
I don't really feel like talking about knitting or dieting today. I know Molly was just doing what a dog is supposed to do, but it was an awful thing to watch.