The leaves were dancing on the cool wind today. And so the four-footed one went dancing as well. Dancing after the leaves and perhaps as an effort to stay warm in the wind. I was along for the ride so to speak.
It was a complicated dance, changing pace and movements rapidly almost on a whim. The four-footed one seemed to understand the intricate steps as if she had been an understudy just waiting for the moment to step into the light. And in her moment in the light, she danced with passion and wild abandonment. To be honest I was a bit jealous of her, just a bit because I was also tired from the journey.
And like all individuals caught up in a passion, the four-footed one could not be denied her time. Nor the duration of the dance. She stopped only when the dance was finished or in our case the wind stopped dancing with the leaves. And when that moment came, the four-footed one sat down to rest. And refused to move another step, leaving me with two options: drag her home or carry her.
Obviously I carried her home, even though I was tired enough that I wondered what would take less energy.
My mama always insisted I make my bed once I woke up. She was deaf to the logic I applied, one that went something like this: why make it just to take it apart hours later to go to bed. The only time my mama allowed me to leave my bed unmade was if I were sick.
To this day, unless I am very sick, I make my bed once I get up. Beloved was raised them same way, only his Mama insisted his bed tucked in tight so a coin could be bounced off it.
No matter how hard we try, the four-footed one doesn’t seem to want to leave her beds nice and neat. I just spent the last half hour putting dog bed mattresses back into the beds, straightening blankets and such. Not because she has that many beds, but because once one bed was tidied up and I moved to the next, she tore the tided bed apart.
She grabbed one of her mattresses and decided to pull it into the bathroom. As if to say she might need to crash there at some time! It isn’t so much I want her to make her beds, but I’d like to not have to retrieve mattresses and such from various parts of the house.
The other day Belved found her mattress with his shoes. She carried it down five stairs and through a narrow doorway. Just to place it on his shoes. When he went to put it back she pounced on it and refused to let him remove it. (He was able to move it a few hours later, by that time she had another mattress somewhere else.)
And here is the kicker, she rarely sleeps or naps in her beds! Yep they become play things. Because she has our bed, and when she needs to nap there is either a welcoming lap or some feet to curl up on. Because she’s, well,our four-footed one!
The four-footed one decided she shouldn’t have to get out of bed this morning. I get it. Other than food, a walk and play time she has nothing pressing to do. And let’s face it, those of use who have more added to our lives also have moments where we just want to stay in bed.
Unfortunately for the four-footed one she had to get up and get going because her humans needed to get going. It didn’t mean she had to like it, it didn’t mean she couldn’t protest, but it did mean she had to get started with her morning.
Normally the four-footed one wakes up happy and ready to start her day so naturally we assume something was a little off for her. Turns out she had no desire to walk through horrible weather. It was blustery and chilly early in the morning. Ah yes, nice warm bed versus cold wind in your face. What would you decide?!
To be fair, Beloved took her for a walk this morning because he wind and cold was too much for my own body this morning. I had warned Beloved, long before the weather people did that the weather was changing. He doubted me. But when he came back from his walk he said he didn’t know why he doubted me.
Of course me handing him a warm coffee may have had something to do with that too! And the four-footed one spent the afternoon resting on the bed, beside me. Because by noon I could no longer handle the over-the-counter pain meds for my pain. And I was tired. Chronic pain can be exhausting and tiring. And if a cute four-footed creature wants to curl up beside you, all the bettering!
Beloved was head down into research on Martin Luther when the four-footed one decided to lash him with her monkey. Actually it was probably more a case of he got in her path of playing even though he was stationary on a chair. The monkey is long and flat. The four-footed one adores running and flinging this monkey throughout the house. She also enjoys whipping it around side to side and woe be those in her path.
Beloved abandoned his research, even though he was appropriately at a part of research where Luther physically punishes himself to relieve the guilt, to be a good person, to chase the four-footed one and the monkey. Because sometimes there is a monkey that must be chased or thrown around for a little while.
If you were to ask the four-footed this should happen regularly and research should be given to just bits of time here and there. The four-footed one believes we do not have enough play time in our lives and so she attempts to create a balance, at least in her mind, between work and play time. The fact that play time should be at least two-thirds of the time versus sleep, work and eat time makes no difference to her. I isn’t her fault, it’s in her nature. And since we share life with her, it fills into our lives and slowly becomes a part of our nature to some degree.
There is a monkey hanging from an overhead light in my bedroom. I have no clue how it got there, and I’m really not sure I want to know how it got there or how I managed to sleep through the events that brought it to this point.
For the record, I don’t normally have monkeys, either living or stuffed dog toy varieties in my bedroom. I don’t typically have dog toys in the bedroom. But Beloved has no qualms about bringing in the four-footed one’s toys and tossing them on the bed if he plans on reading in bed late at night. Evidently he also has no qualms about allowing the four-footed one to jump and walk on me. (He forgot that with my medication I bruise very easily and so I have bruises the size of her paws on my body.)
Did I mention that this light, the one with the monkey hanging from it is rather high up from the bed? Beloved’s answer to my raised eyebrow was that the four-footed one was playing with the monkey. As if she just threw it up there all on her own. Next he will be telling me she jumped up there all on her own!
Right now neither Beloved nor the four-footed one are talking. And the monkey, while he’s just silently hanging around.
The for us-footed one thought she’d help Beloved shine his shoes. With her tongue. He didn’t appreciate the help and told her so. Not to be deterred, she decided to help get his jacket ready for him. By rolling on the sleeves of it. It isn’t every day that you can get a dog to roll on your tuxedo jacket, so you’d think he would realize how special her gift was.
Instead he fretted over some dog fur on the jacket while he wiped his perfect shoes. He reasoned that she would have received an invitation to the wedding if the bride and groom wanted her there. I received an invitation, slightly different from the one Beloved had received. Mine invited me to the wedding and said it was understandable if I couldn’t make it to the reception.
Alas I wasn’t attending the wedding or the reception. I was just home from the hospital and had been told under no circumstances could I attend the wedding or other public settings. Beloved was going to the wedding and then coming home for the four-footed one and myself.
I had tried to avoid the hospital in the first place, letting things go a bit tI far before reaching out to my specialists. My specialist told me to go to the hospital, where he promptly admitted me. He informed me the only wedding he would spring me out for was my own wedding. And since it wasn’t my own wedding, he told me I was staying.
Beloved asked if he should return the dress I had bought to wear for my friend’s wedding. Without giving me a chance to answer, my specialist told Beloved to return the dress. Which he did. Which is why he was now fretting over some dog fur and spit while I was sitting comfortably without a care in the world, reading and thanking my lucky stars that I wasn’t still in the hospital.
The bride had already promised me that she would be sending Beloved home after the ceremony. She had also promised to have some of the wedding cupcakes set aside for us. And when I was up to it, we’d get together and watch the wedding ceremony.
So I was comfortable while Beloved was fretting.
The four-footed one spent her morning on a long adventure with Beloved. The two of them came back soaked and shivering even though it wasn’t raining. It would seem that she triggered someone’s sprinkler system and got scared. So she didn’t move, staying where she was and getting soaked. Entire Beloved. He walked into the water to rescue the four-footed one.
The rescue resulted in a wet pair of adventurers, who still had a ways to go before they could get to the comfort of a nice, warm, dry home. Unfortunately the wind decided that it would help dry them off, only that didn’t work out to well. Thus two soaked, cold and miserable wanderers burst into the house, taking me by surprise.
I was resting with a nice book and a warm blanket. Recovering from treatment for lupus again. While they were drying off and getting warmed up (the four-footed one was deposited upon my blanket for snuggles and a warm-up) it occurred to me that I spent a fair amount of time these days resting and catching up on their adventures.
And I’m grateful that they share their stories, cuddles and yes at times not having to go out in dirty weather. So there are times that lupus manages to keep me warm and dry when I otherwise might be getting soaked while the four-footed one is trapped by technology.