October 20, 2000

It's slow going, cricket-herding.  I discovered the spindly-legged, antenna-waggling little guy in the middle of the family room, and I'm down on my knees angling him towards the open back door.  He's lost of course, and I'm trying to get him back outside where he can run wild and free, as crickets were meant to do.

The dog is watching me from just outside, wagging her tail a little and wondering what the hell I'm doing.  "I'm cricket-herding," I tell her.

I put my open palm down towards the cricket again, and he takes an enormous leap in the right direction, landing maybe two feet from the threshold.  Ha!  I close on him quickly and angle my hand and he jumps and--

And the dog snaps her head and starts chewing; chewing awkward, unexpected chews.  She swallows, and she blinks and she turns and wanders away.

 



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