Actually, alas, there will be no film. My camera is great, but not great enough to capture Jackson and Theo, who even as I write have apparently treed something in the dark, dark backyard. I wonder what it is - a possum? A said she'd seen a possum a couple weeks ago. Do possums even climb trees? If they have those dogs after them, hell yeah they do. The most determinedly terrestrial species in the world - me, for example - would probably climb a tree to get away from the noise they're making. At least they're getting some exercise - Jackson was halfway up the tree. I guess that's why he's called a Treeing Walker Hound. He did it the other day too, when a squirrel had the temerity to venture into the backyard. I really thought he was going to make it to the top. That's the thing about being a blind hound: you have no boundaries. Nothing is impossible, because you can't see it. It's all just a slightly different shape of floor.
If I was my neighbor, I think I might be creeping around in my backyard in a loincloth with a blowpipe and some poison darts by this point. Or a ninja suit and a katana. Or just a shotgun. Thank all the gods that she has dogs too - and she's a nice person. Of course, her dogs are quiet. But they didn't used to be, and we both know that, so I have a little slack.
I'm cranky and bored and my computer died this afternoon. It is now miraculously resurrected but I can't figure out what happened earlier today and I'm worried. If the computer dies, wtf will I do with myself? Clean the house, go hiking, get a job, create great art? What a dreadful prospect.