It's Me, Sara Louise

There is a reason for this that is embarrassing to admit. It all goes back to me being a scaredy cat. Fifty has to be walked as soon as he wakes up in the morning. There is about a five minute window, just enough time for me to get dressed, but that’s it. He’s awake, it’s pee pee time. And dawn can be a very eerie time in Le Petit Village. Some mornings are fine, but on other mornings, thick fog descends on the mountain and you can walk ten feet, turn around and not see where you just came from. I’m not exaggerating, nothing but dense fog. The only visible light is from the bell tower on the old church, glowing orange, and just when I pass, the birds that live in it fly away, wings flapping loudly. So picture a dark medieval village with a centuries old church bell tower, glowing orange in the fog, and fleeing birds. No traffic, no people, no noise. Just a girl and her puppy. CREEPY.

Anyhoo… I like to wait until at least thirty minutes before sunrise to take Fifty for his walk, by then, a hint of light begins, and I can pretend I’m not a big old chicken. This is all by way of saying that my normal early bird routine is being disturbed by Fifty’s pee pee breaks and the lazy sunrise. Relaxed, normal people would not have a problem with this. But I am the opposite of relaxed. Xanax should have been named Sara.