This morning, I’d hoped to sleep in a little. My fellow pet owners out there can appreciate the fact that this, of course, rarely happens. Our furballs have a tight schedule to keep, and they have no concept of the occasional joy that comes from an additional 15 minutes of rest. Lilly, our 3 yr old cattle dog/Heinz 57 mix, came to the side of the bed and urgently poked me with her nose. She followed this by making a coughing noise. “Ahem. It’s time. I need food. Get up.” It was 5:30 a.m. Seriously? What good is this pandemic if I can’t at least get some awesome sleep out of it? By that time, Bedford, our boxer/pit/Heinz 57 mix was up and peering over the bed as well. “Hey man. Sooo are you getting up?” Sigh. So I get up, get their food, open the back door, wish them happy potty time, and head back to bed.
Dawn. Peer Gynt Suite plays in the background. Birds are chirping. I stretch. I yawn. I..what the hell? Bedford is on the bed in his usual prone position, feet sticking straight in the air, and snoring. Oh hell no. Robert and I have worked too hard to keep the dogs off of the bed. The bed just isn’t big enough for 2 adults and 2- 50 lb dogs. And Lilly and Bedford, while they have reached a comfortable sibling love- hate relationship, they do not appreciate sharing sleep space. I shoo him off the bed, and naturally now everyone is awake. It’s ON. That’s right. It’s ‘we’d better walk the dogs before they explode’ time.
I love walking the dogs. I prefer having coffee first, but I can deal. I’m a morning person who enjoys doing morning things. Robert, on the other hand..let’s just say one shouldn’t poke a sleeping bear. Dawn is not his best time. Still, he’s a good sport, helps me throw on the harnesses and off we go. Lilly and Bedford don’t miss a beat. The cat watching us under the cars, the ducks waddling into the neighbor’s yard, the sound of a car starting… Who needs an upper body workout when you have to keep your dog from dragging you across the street? Then of course, there is the usual stop, smell, pee, “Oh look, cat poop! I’mma eat some. Why is mom yelling at me?” And of course, Bedford can’t pee on a fire hydrant or a tree like a normal dog. Nope, he’s got to pee on our neighbors’ car tires, rose bushes, mailboxes, and any other thing that embarrasses the hell out of me.
All of this on a daily basis is not a chore for me. It is a mindful moment. I’m not thinking of bills or groceries. I’m not thinking of how I am not mastering the piece I’m working on. I’m only watching these precious beings. Their comfort, joy, and curiosity continually keeps me in the present. Aren’t I lucky? I didn’t rescue these dogs. They rescued me. 🙂
Harp, Wine, and K9's 