You would imagine a dog that has encountered a porcupine once would avoid striking up a conversation with another one, regardless of how alluring its waddle might be, non?

Of course, you might also expect a dog that has had THREE extremely painful and wildly upsetting impromptu engagements with a porcupine to have learned this is not someone you want to enter into a relationship with.

And, naturally, you might think, HOLY SAINT ALOYSIOUS, that dog is D-to-the-B DUMB. You would of course be right. (Ahh, but only on this last point, I'm afraid).

((No need for me to bring to mind any of those bad relationship patterns we humans find ourselves repeating is there? No, no of course not. Let's just keep our focus on the goddamned stupid dog)).

Okay, I have 2. 40 minutes left.

Beautiful early morning. Soft, fragrant air. Sunlight through the green leaves makes for a chartreuse bubble of pretty. We've got birdsong. The path is thick with pine needles. Wild roses are in bud amid bunches of brambles along the tumbled stone walls.

A good walk. Nay, a glorious walk.

About two miles in, Henry, on leash, begins to pull furiously and I see the black and white creature waddling up the hill before any of the rest. I yell for Daisy and Ollie, but they go straight to the beast with the single-minded focus of a junkie reaching for a spoon.

Luckily, I got them out before it turned into a bloodbath. Daisy had quills all around her mouth and face, but they were not in so deep and I was able to get them all out right there on the side of the road-- maybe a dozen total. She's a good patient, Miss Daisy.

Ollie had none in his mouth so I was momentarily relieved and thought I could remove the dozen or so I could see sticking out from his chest. But no, I got about 6 out before he seriously tried to bite off my arm. Seriously.

As you may know, Ollie is half Chihuahua, which means his temperament on a good day is high-strung and nervous and prone to skittish yelping that would make an anorexic, Manhattan real estate diva look positively sedated. Trying to get him to calm down enough for me to extract porcupine quills from under his armpit was just not gonna happen.

He is now at the vet. Most heavily sedated. Pick-up scheduled for 5:30.

Grrrrrrr.

Okay-- time is up and I ran over. Am busy. I know, I KNOW. Don't say it.

Hope your weekend was grand---now tell me please, if you had to buy just one cookbook for a summer of exploratory fun with recipes, which one would it be? Note: I already have Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

Be well-- avoid the porcupines in your life!!

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