3 Dog Night. Uhhhh,umm, make that "CAT"

Years ago I read that the aborigines  of Australia considered a really cold night to be a 3 dog night--that being the number of dogs needed to keep warm.  Having lost considerable weight since January, I am finding that I am affected more by temperature than in previous years--no insulation, as it were.  This morning, the alarm clock went off at 4:40. Buster, the grey tiger shorthair who entered my life 2 years ago at Halloween (literally; he just walked into the house every time I opened the door to trick-or-treaters) was snugged into a knot between my ankles. Punkin, the starving, bedraggled 5 week old mewling handful of orange tabby that was gifted to me last Halloween (do you detect a trend here?) by my next-door-neighbor, had plunked his 15 pounds of tim-cat (calling him a "tom" would be untruthful now, wouldn't it?) along my right side. And JeepersCreepers, the tortoiseshell queen I received last May as a terrified 5 week old kit from my roomie (who should have known what would happen when she called me to her office with "come quick, I'm about to do something stupid"--I though she was going postal on her sexist misogynistic boss) because she was almost run over in the parking lot, was burrowed between the quilts and sleeping against my left side.

Ever try to extract yourself from the bed without disturbing a cat? Or 3 cats?

Sigh...

Needless to say, I got to the running trail a tad later than normal. Mostly because JeepersCreepers is really good at hiding things. Watches. Shoes. Toilet paper.

Don't ask. It isn't pretty.

I got out of my car and saw the first bit of vandalism.  The trash bin had been removed from the containment holder and the trash strewn all about--including the length of rebar I had removed from a tree the day before.  I picked it up, and replaced the bin. Then I started the run.

At the top of the northern most loop I saw a newly made wooden picnic table. I thought "how nice. The older walkers will like that". Kept on going. Stars were bright, quartermoon overhead. Cold crisp air. On my 3rd mile on the east loop I saw something in the creek. Large, white. Not normal. I stopped and went down the bank. Another new picnic table, top pulled apart, upside down in the water. Also another trash bin floating nearby. I managed to get the large part of the table out of the creek. I couldn't reach the others bits and pieces.

Oddly enough, for the first time in days, I had my cell phone with me. So I called the police and reported the vandalism. It was a bit after 6 a.m. I did 5 more miles while waiting for the police to come by. I finished 8 miles and left after sunrise (about 7:20 or so??). 

The picnic tables were not there when I ran Wednesday, so they were placed in the park sometime during the day. The lady who walks the Boston terrier (whose name is Buster) said that she had seen something white in the creek at 9 last night. The young man with the black-mouth cur named Rufus (looks mean, but might slap you to death with his tail while attempting to drown you in drooling slobber kisses--the dog, not the boy) said he hadn't noticed anything.

When I find the rest of the toilet paper, I'm going to write "inconsiderate park vandals" on it and use it appropriately. With intent.

 I'll post stats on Sauturday.