Kismet is, of course, named after one of Admiral Nelson's most famously misquoted "last" words: "Kiss me, Hardy," a request for Captain Thos. Hardy to bid him farewell as he lay dying on the orlop deck of the Victory. The Victorians (who are also responsible for largely cutting Lady H. out of the story) couldn't handle the remotest possibility of any suggested hint of the love that dare not speak its name, put it about that what he had actually said was "Kismet, Hardy." "Kismet" being, of course, a Turkish word that he picked up on his travels meaning fate or destiny. Fortunately we, in these more enlightened times, know that this is utter nonsense. Still, it makes for a good story. Especially the part where they named an ale "Kiss Me, Hardy" and made it taste fantastic.
It is appropriate that the dog is named after a last kiss, since he loves people, and he loves to give puppy kisses. He is an absolute joy to walk around (despite his unwillingness to walk in a straight line), because for once I get to be the person who says "you wanna pet my dog? Go ahead!" Usually I keep a hand on his harness just to make sure he doesn't jump up and lick people to death. This week has been much better, frustration-wise. I think the problem with this weekend was the fact that it was just the two of us, all weekend long. Kizzy needs a pack around him--but so do I. And we both do better with backyards, although I definitely prefer a hammock in mine.
He will still be going back into foster care, although I don't know when. Now, after spending a happy week actually enjoying him instead of enduring his energy and his attention-seeking ways, I'm able to make the decision that living in an apartment is not the best arrangement--for him. I still think I have a good home to offer for a dog, but maybe an older dog that enjoys couch time as much as I do.
I will say this though: having to get up and walk Kismet every morning has given me a new appreciation for the beauty of Virginia. The forests around our house that connect to William and Mary are positively primeveal, and beautiful in the morning mist.
But the weather is a changin'. If any of my loyal readers have been watching the news lately, you've heard that Hanna is headed this way--right now she's a tropical storm, but she could make landfall with hurricane status. I'm a little weirded out by hurrican predictions: It's a lovely day today, and tomorrow might be a little grey, but on Saturday, at 2 pm, we will be in the middle of a hurricane. Weird. They're not predicting mass destruction and caos, although we might lose power and water, so tomorrow I'm going to Loewes to lay in a good supply of batteries and water. My friends and I are planning on holing up at someone's house and watching DVDs and handsewing until the storm blows over. And if the power goes out we'll eat ice cream. Woo, storms.