Loaded an mini cone and quietly relocated to the master bedroom bathroom for what was supposed to be a peaceful launch sequence. Took an absolutely disrespectful inhale, turned toward the window to admire the Castle Rock morning… and locked eyes with the neighbor outside scooping up her cat like she had just witnessed a forest fire begin indoors.
She immediately retreated back inside.
Probably for the best.
At that exact moment my lungs were filing emergency paperwork and requesting additional staffing.
Outside, the Castle Rock sky started shifting moods again — little clouds drifting through the blue like the Colorado weather was soft-launching tonight’s nonsense. You can feel it out here before it happens. The wind changes tone, the light gets weird, and suddenly everybody’s patio furniture is in a survival situation.
The cat probably went back inside like:
“Margaret… the bathroom wizard is active again.”
Meanwhile I’m standing there absolutely orbiting, watching clouds drift over Castle Rock like I’m the unofficial deputy of Douglas County weather operations.
Because in Missy’s furry little Chow Chow brain, you are apparently the designated “safe blast zone.” 😄
Dogs do weirdly social things with vulnerable body moments. A lot of them:
• fart near people they trust
• sleep with their back or butt toward their “pack”
• seek closeness when uncomfortable
So there’s a decent chance she’s thinking:
“Dad protects. Dad accepts. Dad will survive this chemical event.”
Meanwhile you’re down there in the trench getting hit with what smells like canned chili and old tennis balls.
There’s also a practical dog reason. Under your legs probably feels:
• sheltered
• warm
• den-like
• close to your scent
And if she’s gassy, she may actually be a little uncomfortable and subconsciously wants comfort. Unfortunately, her comfort system has a side effect worthy of an EPA field report.
Classic dog logic:
“I love you deeply. Please inhale this.” 🐕💨
It’s My Life 
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