Civilization and Its Discontents

Those of you who are regular readers here know that I have a couple of Cardigan Corgis. In the -- dare I say it? dog days of summer -- sometimes the little black and white critters get passing hot when I take them for walks. To that end, I decided I'd carry a water bottle, so as to give them a drink or occasional splash for the cooling effect that offers.

I had a spray bottle, but it died, so I figured, I'd just hie myself on over to the drugstore and pick up one of those little holster thingees for a water bottle you can hook to your belt.

Three stores later -- Rite Aid, K-Mark and GI Joe's, I am here to tell you if you want such a thing, good luck with that.

Oh, there are water bottles out the wazoo, nine-and-sixty kinds, plastic, aluminum, clear, a plethora of colors, from small to humongous. And all kinds of rings, straps, strings, rubber bands, Velcro, net, mesh, and combinations thereof to connect them to fanny packs, back packs, climbing harnesses, bicycles, kayaks, and tent poles.

Double-back-full-twist-layout-illustrated-gilt-edged-tree-calf-
hand-tooled-seven-dollar Friendship's Offerings, some of these, well-made, expensive, and far beyond what I wanted.

If you are in mind to cross the Gobi Desert on foot, then hike to Mount Everest and clamber to the top, this is all swell stuff, but if all you want is something to hook a plain old sixteen-ounce bottle of water to your belt, you are shit out of luck.

Yeah, you can spend nineteen bucks for a padded, insulated wrap that hooks to something with a D-ring big enough to dock the Titantic, but c'mon!

So, frustrated, I returned to my home, dug through the junk drawer, found some straps and an old cell phone case, and made my own. What I should have done in the first place.

Necessity is the mother of invention.