Catching Flies

Dudo was on the den bed the other day. Usually, he looks at me when I call or simply comes running. I called his name. He just stared into space. I called again. Nothing. Then, he lowered his head slightly. And more staring. A flip to the right and up. More staring. That’s when I realised a flying ‘something’ had caught his eye. It was a house fly. And he was clearly too lazy to do anything more than watch it.

NOT CATCHING… WATCHING FLIES. (CLICK TO ENLARGE… YOU STILL WON’T SEE THE FLY.)

Dudo must have heard about the old lady…

Author: Moving with Mitchell

From Brooklyn, New York; to North Massapequa; back to Brooklyn; Brockport, New York; back to Brooklyn... To Boston, Massachusetts, where I met Jerry... To Marina del Rey, California; Washington, DC; New Haven and Guilford, Connecticut; San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara, California; Las Vegas, Nevada; Irvine, California; Sevilla and then Fuengirola, Spain. And now Córdoba. View all posts by Moving with Mitchell