Fourth of July Fun

Last Fourth of July, my mistress dressed me in red, white and blue for the Terrell Hills parade. It was kind of a relief this year when she and my master decided not to doll me and Chica up and instead to drive up to our country place. It was hot as Hades, but we loved the novelty of running up and down the dry Hondo Creek bed.

Chica—who is as fast as greased lightning—more than met her match when she came nowhere near catching her first jackrabbit. What she would have done with it is anybody’s guess as it stood way taller than she, not even counting the ears. I didn’t bother to make chase, instead savoring country smells (though the scent of coyote made me nervous enough to stick close to Mary at dusk).

Mary was elated to spot yet another wildflower she hadn’t photographed for the book she is compiling with her granddaughter. Called buttonbush, it looks like a spiky white ball.

After it got dark we enjoyed a dark sky spangled with an explosion of stars more spectacular than a fireworks display. In the past, there have been plenty of fireworks lighting the sky, but this year they were banned. Which suited me and Chica fine as frankly, the sounds and smells of gunpowder offend our canine ears and noses.