The four-footed one likes to start her day with a huge stretch, a yawn and a good walk. She insist on following this up with a delicious breakfast, which is gobbled rather quickly I might add, and a good game of chase around the house.
Regardless of the day of the week, the four-footed one likes to stick to this routine. She gets annoyed if I change things up. But she does reserve the right to push back on an outdoor activity of the weather doesn’t meet her standards. And by her standards that means if it’s raining too hard we stay in. If the wind is a full force gale, she will opt to just get an extra play session in.
This is all finely and good, except on the days that I’m unable to meet her demands. She has yet to comprehend lupus and how it affects me. When I tell her I can’t walk or run around the house, she simply grabs my finger with her teeth. If I fail to be roused by this approach, she will use pressure with those teeth. And when I still don’t give in, she sulks and ignores me. That is until she wants a cuddle, a scratch or something. Because those are all routine too!
I woke up to an empty house this morning. Empty as in the four-footed one was nowhere to be found. Empty as in the four-footed wasn’t taking up most of the space in the bed. Empty as in there was no dog on my chest.
Empty as in lonely, sort of. Now I know the four-footed ne is talented and has mastered opening up certain things, but unlocking the house? That’s not her current skill set. (I’m sure if we give her a few weeks or working it out, she will have made progress in this field.)
Near the coffee maker was a note, one that said doe me to enjoy the solitude while the four-footed was out for a walk. Ah Beloved, now and then he come by without warning and does sweet things such as taking the very active four-footed one for a walk while I enjoy the silence with a good cup of coffee. Ah Beloved, now and then he comes by unannounced and does sweet things like this while leaving a lot of laundry to be dealt with!
The four-footed one was delighted with her long walk and more delighted to come back home. She was basically dragging Beloved up the front walk while I sipped my coffee. Beloved didn’t look as delighted about the walk, but he seemed delighted to be home? More delighted with the hot cup of coffee though. And I, well I was delighted to have him home!
The four-footed is protesting. Not a full-out riot of one mind you. Just a well-versed protest. It started with her ignoring me whenever I called her. It then escalated to a full-on strike of sorts.
She decided she is not interested in her food anymore. It isn’t a case of not being hungry, or being on a hunger strike. Rather it’s just a case of she doesn’t like her food. At all. Probably because she got a taste of what we eat. Accidentally of course.
You see we had a lovely meal with rice. The problem with rice is that sometimes it doesn’t like to stay on my eating utensil. Sometimes when the rice falls off my utensil, it lands back on the plate. Other times it hits the tables. And then there are times I find myself wearing the stuff that has fallen so of course you know it also hits the floor.
And the floor is the four-footed one’s domain. She’s fast and determined and nothing hits her domain without her inspecting it. And by inspecting, I mean sticking it in her mouth. And eating it if it has a food value to it. So I suspect that this is where she got a taste for something other than her dogfood and decided that protesting would be the way to ensure she got more of what she wanted and less of her usual every day food. She’s probably bored by it to be honest.
I can’t blame her for being bored, she eats the same thing most times so a taste of something new is no doubt exotic. And once you taste it once you can’t help but want more if it! I get it. Except this type of a protest, especially the ignoring me, isn’t the way to go. Snuggling up to me and giving me affection with loads of tail wags will probably work better. Although she does that puppy dog eye thing so well. You know, the big sad eyes pleading for just a taste. Yeah that face. But it’s for her own good, only what’s for your own good doesn’t always taste good.
The four-footed one decided to help with yard work today. Not all of what was being done, just the things st struck her fancy. Such as raking the leaves. And pulling up of plants.
She started by running around and playing with her ball. She ignored the work being done as well as the workers. It wasn’t until the plants were being pulled up that she became interested. I think it was the noises Beloved was making at first that caught her attention. The smells of freshly uprooted plants probably kept her attention. And watching the dirt fall, the worms wiggle and such had her fully immersed in wanting to help. And by help I mean she wanted to jump into the holes that were made. She also was interested in help move the plants. She happily grabbed them to drag throughout the yard.
She was having a ball with this, until she discovered raked leaves. In a pile. Waiting to be picked up. A pile that cannot be ignored. A pile that must be investigated and rolled through. A pile that could not be picked up fast enough to avoid being spread back all over the ground.
With each stroke of the rake to gather up the spread leaves, she would go back through those leaves. Tossing some of them up in the air, letting others get caught in her fur. Suddenly raking was taking three times as long and frankly I was wondering if there would be an end in sight. There was, when she grew tired and decided to curl up in the weak sunshine and have a nap.
She slept through the rest of the raking and pulling. She slept through the bags being tied and placed by the bin. She slept through the putting away of shovels and rakes. She woke up when all the boring work was done, ready to go in and have a treat. Because yard work is hard work.
My four-footed companion and I were out enjoying the early morning sunlight during our first meander of the day. There were plenty of birds to keep us company as we made our way wherever my companion’s nose decided was best to visit. In other words this morning she got to choose the path we would take.
While these types of walks mean not knowing exactly how far we will travel, they hold the promise of new sights and adventures. This morning’s meandering had us crossing paths with a group of young kittens, some bunnies and a chicken. The four-footed one loves bunnies, or should I say she likes to race them. The kittens received a curious sniff or two and then she was on her way. (She had a less-than-pleasant experience with a cat a month ago in that the cat took a swipe at her.) As for the chicken, she wasn’t sure what to make of it since it was her first chicken and did not behave like any of the other birds she has met.
We spent five minutes just staring at the chicken before deciding we would invite it to play by getting down low on the ground with our rump in the air. When I say we I mean my four-footed companion. For the record I do not get down low on the ground and raise my rump as an invitation to play. Not ever. Besides I wasn’t really sure I don’t no what ow to play with the chicken. Thankfully the chicken just walked away from our invitation and spared me from having to chase the chicken in the run.
This got me to thinking what would my four-footed friend do if she caught a chicken or other bird? If it is anything like what she does with her stuffed toys the poor thing would have a concussion from being violent shaken about. And the chicken would be wet, soaked in puppy saliva because that’s what happens when she’s playing with her toys. Then I’d have to try to fluff up and dry this poor, traumatized chicken and put it back to a safe place.
Maybe tomorrow I will choose a path less exciting least we catch a chicken!
Eat your greens lately? Have some nice dark, leafy things? If not my four-footed companion has some ideas for you. Such as nibble on the African Violet in the pot you can reach. Or maybe you want something more delicate like a fern leaf. No? How about some sweet blades of grass when they are in season?
I noticed some odd things happening to the green leaves on my African Violet the other day. Jagged little bits here and there. I couldn’t figure out what caused it. Thankfully my four-footed one heard me considering this mystery and decided to solve it for me. By showing me. She takes a bites out of the leaves and then spits them out on the floor.
After observing her in the wild of my house, I noticed she does the same with the fern too. And I caught her early in the year doing the same with the grass. She’s got her own version of picky.
And to prove she’s willing to try new things, she has sampled lettuce that has fallen on the floor as well as spinach. She is not a fan of either of these items, but carrots are acceptable. And watch your fingers if you drop some apple and try to reduce it. You may loose your fingertips if you aren’t fast enough.
The four-footed one likes peas too. Provided she isn’t expected to eat them. Peas are more or less play things. The name of the game is to roll peas all throughout my house and watch me go crazy trying to find them all.
But I guess she doesn’t mind her veggies and stuff provided she has it her way.
Today we the long way home. The way that had the most puddles and singing birds. After the rain. We wouldn’t go out in a heavy rain, the dog doesn’t like it. But after the rain she loves it. All the new smells and stuff.
So we took the long way home. To enjoy the smells of damp leaves warming in the sunshine. We took the long way home to listen to the ran running in the gutters. To watch the small birds drink out of the puddles and en try to chase the birds.
We took the long way home because there was a rainbow out and it was a beautiful time. We could take the long way home because we weren’t in a hurry. We had no particular place to go and went were we felt like going at the speed we wanted to go.
Pits nice, being able to take the long way home. To not have to rush around so much which is what the world seems to be about these days. Rushing here and there and a,ways heading to some place or some where that we need to be. It’s nice to just slow down and do what we please. It’s nice to settle down to what we want how we want and when we want.
There may be something more to this slow living besides not having to run everywhere. There is a sense of getting back into something, touching something I haven’t touched since I was young. Between the dog and the day of taking the long way home I felt a strange satisfaction. A satisfaction of just letting things be as there would be without forcing things.
We took the long way home and when we got home there was a drink for me and a nice chew for the dog while we waited for our meal. And we decided we would.d take the long way home more often. We would follow the path we wanted no matter how far it took us from home. And we’d take the long way home, scuffing in the leaves, rolling n the grass and marvelling at the clouds, rainbows and whatever we find.