Mom, I miss our early morning walks. "I need my beauty sleep," Emmy yawns every morning, and pulls the covers over her head. Thank goodness for the doggy door.
When she first wakes up, Emmy is a tad slow. Sometimes I wait in our front yard and gaze at Thumb Butte. Think of that: I can see the most famous landmark in Prescott from my own yard! I'm a lucky dog.
Then it's time for a walk in the neighborhood. If Bud is in his yard he likes to scratch behind my ears while he talks. One time Bud invited us in to celebrate Dot's birthday. I won't say which one; a lady doesn't discuss her age. People were eating cake, but Emmy made sure I didn't get any. Mom, did you tell Emmy about my (ahem) sensitive tummy? If you did, that's going to take a lot of the fun out of things for the next two weeks.
After we walk in the flatter areas, Emmy and I walk up the hill to the house that was on HGTV. I know some neighbors thought the house was funny looking, but I don't mind. I wish they had a dog, though. One evening we ran into my Dachshund friend Sunshine and her people, Lynn and Carol.
Emmy drove out Williamson Valley Road so she could look at horse properties, but before we got far I requested a pit stop. Emmy pulled into Southview, which she realized was a ritzy neighborhood. Nevertheless, I had to do what I had to do. A dog can get away with anything (tee hee). Emmy smiled nonchalantly at the rich people as she bagged the evidence.
"Is this going to be like Little Red Riding Hood?" I asked when we drove to the Lower Wolf Creek Campground. What really worried me was that I was wearing my red--not my pink--halter and leash. Absolutely not, Emmy assured me. She was right. No scary forest, no wolves. No gumdrops, either. Darn. There was a quick-footed rabbit I could have caught, if Emmy would have let go of the leash.
One blustery, un-May-like day Emmy and I were sniffing around at the Sharlot Hall Museum, probably the most famous place to visit in Prescott, when the wind whipped my ears in what I thought was a fetching way. Was it possible? Could I be suited for a modeling career?
"I don't think so," laughed Emmy. "You look more like the Flying Nun."
Mom, what is a Flying None? And how can a "None" fly?
We walked around the courthouse and along Whiskey Row. Although more than 50 bars used to be in that one block, Whiskey Row has mostly restaurants and stores for tourists now. Emmy doesn't drink and she wouldn't let me drink, either, so it was pretty tame.
Emmy thought the Chino Valley Spring Fest would be fun, but by the time we got there it was pouring down rain. Dozens of dripping wet people were running toward their cars.
Could we go to the Spring Fest next year, Mom? I want to see the Spam Carving Contest. Yum.