Last night, as the sun went down on Sam and I’s Perseid perch, I tried guessing where on our eastern skyline the sun was going to rise. I had thought the Perseids would be the astronomical wonder of the night; I had no idea the Stonehenge-like precision I was in for.

After rousing a somnolent Sam, we headed east for an odd view of Interstate 5 near Alger.

On the way down, I stopped the car to check a tall till outcrop for, I don’t know, mammoth teeth. Sam told me she heard a menacing dog nearby; I told her it was a squawking bird in the tree above. She told me it was probably a killdeer and that I was harassing their ground-based nest. I snarked back that it sounded like my bigger threat was a kill-joy. Two big dogs came bounding out of the underbrush fifteen meters distant, teeth bared and snarling. I raised my rock hammer to a defensive position and they retreated back into the bushes while I returned to the car, appropriately cowed.

She found this guy and a friend waiting on our porch at home for us. I think I’m going to name him Odin.