Sancho Gets Psychoanalyzed

Ha! I have finally defeated the tubes. Here is a song I recorded out here.
















I think Sancho was deep in depression when we got out here. Back in Anchorage he had two dogs to play with all day long, and on top of that Stump took wing for Hawaii, to join in on all the whisky fueled yoga and Scrabble being offered by the parental vacation plan. So Sancho has been moping. He sits still for hours at a time, and his face shows profound sadness. So to alleviate this gloomy mood, we went outside. In honor of my father, I decided to abandon the many trails we have zigzagging drunkenly all over this place, and chose to zigzag drunkenly (only in appearance) through the trees down to the marsh and around in crazy circles on any frozen body of water I could find. Cross country skiing on ice sounds (at least to me), like a wild ride on a mechanical bull strapped to a tanker truck driving off a bridge, but sadly it was just somewhat more difficult not to fall down than skiing on snow. The lake was covered in these cool ice crystal snowflake things.

 I was a pretty big fan. Sancho couldn't figure out why I would be lying on my stomach in the middle of the lake, and kept running around, clearcut logging huge swaths of beautiful tiny ice trees. I admonished him but I'm not sure he understands clearcut logging. He has grown up in an era of more responsible natural resource management.

 I found the root of Sancho's depression when we were out in the deep snow, though. It turns out he has been living his entire life as a lie. The whole time he thought he was a dog, everyone believed he was a dog, and even other dogs told him he was a dog. But he isn't. He is actually the most gigantic rabbit that has ever lived. If you need proof, observe this picture of rabbit tracks.

And then observe this picture of Sancho tracks. I rest my case.

Also, the day was so clear that I'm pretty sure I could see Canada. This picture is lame because the mountains are so far away, but the very farthest ones that you can barely make out are in Canada. I think. More specifically, I think it's Mount Logan, North America's second tallest mountain.

Also, my march to global domination continues! Argentina, France, and New Zealand have joined the party! I suspect my lovely host family has been conned into viewing this blog. Hola! Bienvenidos! I now go to crack open the largest bottle of Crown Royal I have ever seen. I caught it while hunting in the wilds of the Costco liquor department. Nos vemos!