July 13, 2009

One cicada, two cicada, three cicada, four

The cicada are beginning to re-appear. I spotted the first one on a post two weeks ago. Last week I saw one on a tree. Now I've begun to notice the holes they drill in the ground (according to a source I read last summer, the holes indicate them going back underground rather than them emerging).

In any case, Koko is a happy dog. He wanders from tree to tree on his evening walk, gazing up the trunk in search of victuals. Not much there so far, but he's found two recently dead ones on the sidewalk and has delicately taken them up in his mouth and spit out the ants crawling on the carcass before chomping with undisguised enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, back at home Koko's on a diet. In a fit of good sense and responsible dog ownership, we committed to no longer giving him people food. As that plan took effect, we also decreased the numbetr of treats he gets each day. He'd become a bit plump over the winter, and for all that my Jennifer says, "He's big-boned, Mama," the reality is that overweight dogs die on average three years earlier than their sleeker kin.

Koko seems not to have noticed the changes in diet. Why would he mind when a smorgasbord lies outside the front door, with more on the way each day?

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