Good morning. 🦆🪿🦢
13 February 2026
Today is a walk day, and my brain is already trying to talk me out of it—suggesting I could just pick it up tomorrow, which of course I wouldn’t. The funny thing is, once we’re actually moving, it’s enjoyable. But getting prepped—me with the right shoes and clothes, and Charlie with his harness and leash—is about ninety percent of the effort. The other ten percent is simply pointing my feet toward the door. Charlie doesn’t seem to have that problem. At the first hint that we’re going for a walk, he’s ready, even a little anxious to get going.
I had to step away for a minute to feed him. While I was at it, I grabbed a couple of Tylenol for my back and topped off my coffee.
Charlie always tickles me. Sometimes when I feed him, I’ll stand nearby for a moment and watch. He’ll pause with his head still down, give me a sideways glance, bare his teeth just a little, and let out a low growl—as if I’m about to steal his food. Or maybe he just prefers to dine in private and I’m annoying him. Either way, it’s mildly amusing. The look reminds me of Muttley, Dick Dastardly’s dog, when he mutters and grumbles under his breath.
Saturday morning cartoons were a big deal back in the day. Dick Dastardly and Muttley showed up in two of them: Wacky Races (1968–1969) and Dastardly and Muttley in Their Flying Machines (1969–1970). Stop the pigeon, stop the pigeon…
I wonder when Saturday morning cartoons stopped being a thing. I’m sure the rise of 24/7 TV lineups and dedicated children’s channels brought that whole phenomenon to an end.
“An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day.” — Henry David Thoreau
“Walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet.” — Thich Nhat Hanh
“Drat, drat, drat, and double drat!” — Dick Dastardly
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