We have nice news neighbors, back left, a young couple, or what passes for a couple these days—fiancees, who are renting the newly renovated house that used to have students. Renting now, but thinking of buying. This is great news for the neighborhood, where the cancer of student rentals is slowly being reversed (thanks in part to our neighborhood association). The young fellow has two dogs, two boxers, one an older female, the other a big one-year-old male. The guy works with them every day, and they seem well trained and well behaved.

This afternoon he and his dogs were in their back yard and Pax and I were in ours, and we waved to each other through the bushes, then met in the middle for an introductory chat. The dogs milled around, sniffed a lot, and seemed to get along. During the conversation we moved into his yard, and Pax for some reason decided to do his little dominance act with the male. The boxer rolled over at first but then decided he was more interested in a fight, and the two went at it. We two humans had a tough time pulling them apart; I had to actually punch the boxer alongside the head to get him to let go; but no blood flowed and no visible damage was done.

Once the dogs were put away Blake and I talked gardening, which he is interested in trying. And, perhaps, the dogs can grow to appreciate each other.

I hope the grandkids don't see this as I am slowly teaching them that my name is Bubba and not Bubbie. But the real point is about sauerkraut and dogs. According to the book I am reading, Hal Borland's The Dog Who Came To Stay, some dogs, for example his, like sauerkraut. Deciding to test this theory I have put a glob of it in Pax's bowl. That was a few hours ago and it is still there.

Crocuses are up. The compost pile is slowly thawing. But we need rain. All is dry and brittle.