Really tiny treasures

I never really looked at a cottonwood twig until someone showed me the star and target hiding in its heart. You have to break the twig at a node to see the star. The target is right in the open at this time of year, I think where last year's leaf broke away.
This morning one of the pack of young dogs that I run into every morning had evidently been hit by a car and had crawled into a big pipe by the side of the road. She does not seem to be able to move her rear end. The owner feeds and waters his dogs but doesn't get then fixed or get shots etc. As a result a mass disappearance occurs a couple of times a year. Perhaps I am wrong in thinking the dogs are turned loose in the desert. Perhaps he sells them to vivisectionists. The dogs are nearly always running loose. No one was home as usual. Turns out the owner was on the Biker Memorial April Fool's Ride honoring some recently departed biker of note. I left a message on his phone saying if its OK with him I'll take the dog and see if it is salvagable. She seemed pretty lively this evening, though still in her pipe. She ate a lot. The dogs are Catahula Hounds, according to the owner, and some of them are quite beautiful. The wounded one has a black head and mottled b & w body. She was always the one who greeted me and my dog so affectionately. I wasn't really thinking of another canine adoptee at this point, but sometimes these things are thrust upon us. We'll see.
I baked a cake this morning. I guess the increased elevation here does make a difference. The cake looked like a model of Mt St Helens after the event. I just tried again, with modifications, and a perfect looking cake is cooling smugly beside me.
I baked the cake because a friend and her husband were coming over. They didn't show. She thought we had agreed on Sunday. I thought Saturday. I told her that since we were both too intelligent to have made an error, the event did not take place therefore did not exist therefore neither one of us had made an error therefore our self images can remain perfect as always. So tomorrow evening I will attend a wake she is giving for someone I did not know, and I will bring my perfect cake.
I met a man bicycling for Jesus yesterday. I was looking for something to photograph to be the cover of my brilliant self published novel. I was on a desert road snooping around an old house and he came riding up on his laden bicycle towing a collector's item trailer. We had a philosophical discussion which was somewhat limited by his constant cries of 'And God sent his only son to die on the cross for our sins and that's it. There is no more.' He did say other beliefs were not necessarily evil - just misled. He was an alcoholic and I think probably a Viet Vet. I guess you have to have a revelation of some sort to have such a deeply held belief.