Stinky Fingers and a Stream Stomp

The stink on my fingers won't go away. It's been about six hours and countless hand-cleansings since I misguidedly picked up an unusual ground beetle I spotted on the road this morning, and the stench it left behind on my fingers is still quite discernable. I believe the beetle I found is in the Genus Pasimachus, but I could be wrong. It looks pretty darn close, though. It could even be the species shown in that link, but I didn't bother to look it up while it was still in my hand. Now, while I normally refrain from picking up our local Pinacate Beetles (also known as "Darkling" beetles from the Genus Eleodes) due to their tendancy to live up to their other name (stink beetle), I didn't even consider that this one would have the same sort of defensive behavior.

Well, I'm paying the price for my curiosity. My finger smells like ass. So, naturally, everything that I bring near my mouth using my left hand also smells like ass.

Smelly fingers aside, Sonja and I took the dogs out to enjoy the spectacularly beautiful weather today. It's sunny and about 75 degrees, with a nice breeze to keep things cool. We walked up the ditch to one of the better dog swimming holes in Beaver Creek to let Harvey play around a bit (he's feeling much better now...all of his swelling and hives have gone).

It was really nice to just wade around in the pool and watch Harvey do his rock diving thing. He looked ecstatic as he dove for rock after rock after rock. It's nice to see him feeling so much better.

Luna, on the other hand, seemed very bored. She doesn't look it in this photo, but she kept staring up at us with this forlorn look on her face wondering why she couldn't run around off leash. She'll just have to stay bored, though. We're not going to take the chance of her running off and disappearing again. She did her best to make up for her apparent boredom, though, finding the only rotting piece of dead stuff in the area to roll around in. Luckily, it was only a little dead lizard, so it wasn't nearly as gross as some of the stuff she found on the beach in Seward (nothing like a dog that smells like rotting salmon). Still, it meant she earned herself a good washing off in the stream.

She definitely was not thrilled about that. Not sure how well it worked, but at least she doesn't smell like my finger.