Sunday

5.50am. I am up. I take Otto out for a wee. The birds are chirping in the tree, as the gum tree is seeding at the moment. They'll be gone soon enough.

Bruno is asleep in the lounge room at 6am. He's been funny lately, wanting to head downstairs, often in the middle of the night to sleep.

6am. I make coffee.

6.15am. Bruno and I are sitting on the couch. Otto is staring at us from his crate. That little face. Those big brown eyes.

I watched Panti Bliss, aka Rory O'Neill, Her TedTalk and then her post-show oration at the National Theatre of Ireland, the Abbey. She is so great. She brings tears to my eyes.

I watched Meidas Touch Network. Getting updates on US politics and what that piece of shit Donald Trump is up to.

Sam was up at 7.15.

I made Vegemite toast and coffee. The breakfast of champions.

Sam fed the bulldogs.

8.15am. I made more coffee.

I watched Coldwarmotors, my favourite classic car channel. The one about the radiator in the 1959 Plymouth Fury blowing out.

Mid morning, we take the dogs to the Yarra.

We park in the end bit of Gipps Street next to the Salvos, by the bridge. They are re-working the bike track there, and they have blocked in the end of the dead end with workmen-are-here barricades. 

There are no parking spots so I pull into the driveway/road of the river front townhouses intending to turn around and drive out of that part of Gipps Street. As I pull into the driveway/road, I hear what sounds like a sophisticated V8 start up and I see in my rear vision mirror a white G63 directly behind me wanting to vacate its car space, so I move forward allowing it to complete its departure, intending to back into the car space when the G63 has departed. 

So, I inch forward allowing the Mercedes to leave, temporarily blocking the footpath. Of course, we get comments from the complaints department sashaying past about me blocking the footpath.

"Oh yeah, great place to stop, mate."

"Yeah mate, I pulled in here with the specific purpose of pissing you off."

"Show some consideration."

"Show some brain power."

Sam nudges me. I shrug.

"He didn't hear my last comment."

"You sure."

"No." I can't help but smile.

We park. We head over the bridge. Me walking Bruno on a normal lead. Sam walking Otto on a long lead he bought specifically for Otto's training.

I let Bruno off his lead too close to the bridge and he gets that defiant look on his big, smooshy face, saying, I’m not sure I am going to just follow you, I might run and be free in the opposite direction. And he runs off to the nearest dog, and I run and catch him before he gets any further and put him on his lead and lead him down the path through the off-lead park where I let him off his lead again. He behaves himself from there.

It is lovely to see two bulldogs walking together once more.

We meet Woody the Staffy heading down the path with us. Bruno follows after him for a short distance but then stops glancing back to see where we are

We met Sid the 15 week old toy poodle. Same age as Otto. The two little guys sniff and bounce around together. Cute.

We walk along the river to the turn around spot and... um, turn around. Otto walking like a little champion… and Bruno too, of course.

We meet Freud the big, bouncy, puppy Goldenpoo. His handsome Asian boy and Anglo girl owners were looking for another dog to put the big cheeky lump in his place. Bruno seemed keen, but I wasn’t. Bulldogs play rough, so don't get offended went they beat your dog up in play.

An hour later, we’re walking back to the car.

It is a gorgeous morning as we head back across the bridge. We pack the bulldogs back into the car drive away to the grocery shops.

We get a good park in Nicholson Street by the shops. I have good car park luck.

Bruno, Otto and I are waiting in the entrance to The Hive. Sam heads into the centre.

Sam comes back moments later, insisting on the dogs having more water, and it spills and water is everywhere. Sam disappears back into the centre leaving me with a water mess.

Grrr.

Next, we’re at Minh Phat while Sam shops. Bruno lies down. Otto remains standing.

The sun is shining. The sky is clear blue. A perfect sky.

We head off to get pork rolls. Sam and Otto walk ahead. 

Bruno and I are walking down Victoria Street, Bruno is doing his walk against the wall stopping with every second step he takes to sniff. I tell him to get moving. A dishevelled dude walking behind me takes a drug fucked, mentally deficient, exception to it and starts telling me...

“Say something with love in it. They respond to love. Say something with love in it. Say something with love in it.

I turn around. “Huh?”

“Say something with love in it. Say something with love in it. They respond to love. Say something with love to him.”

Yeah, cheers, thanks a lot. “Mate, I am good, thanks,” I say. "I've got it under control."

“Say something with love in it. Say something with love in it. They respond to love. Say something with love to him.”

Come on Bruno, I think. Bruno gets a move on, and we leave the drug effected, mentally challenged dude behind us.

Just before midday, we’re at the pork roll shop. There was no queue when we got there but the queue soon formed. I stand out the front with Bruno and Otto.

The sun is warm. 

Ten minutes, waiting, waiting. Bruno lies down with his head over the doorway a little, as he always likes to do with a shop doorways. Otto remains standing at my feet.

People walk past on Victoria Street. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards.

Sam finally reappears with the pork rolls. We cross Victoria Street at the pedestrian lights right there and walk to the car in Nicholson Street.

Nicholson Street > Langridge Street > [our] Street.

We’re at home at midday. We get the second car space passed our place. Good going.

We ate pork rolls for lunch. One and a half each, always one and a half, never two. Sam won't let us have two each. "Too piggy."

I lay on the couch and watch YouTube.

Mid afternoon, I make tea, and we eat sesame balls and I cut up an orange.

I re-write my journal. It has been a while since I have done a re-write. I have to elevate it beyond what is essentially notes to something more interesting. I don’t always do that.

I watched YouTube.

I fall asleep on the couch.

We ate chicken drumsticks and salad

We ate papaya for dessert. Bruno and Otto shared the papaya with enthusiasm.

We watched Dessert Masters. Reynold wins immunity. He's my favourite.

We watched 60 minutes – The RBA interest rate rises. All those people struggling to keep the houses they could never afford in the first place, I think. And Matthew Perry's death. It's sad, apparently he was finally in a good place. And GFlip's fabulous career.  Oh yes. She’s very ocker.

9.30pm. Sam went to bed with Bruno.

I stayed up. My eyes were sore.

Midnight, I had to wake Otto to take him to bed.