Some people have lazy days, typically lazy weekend days. It’s a way of balancing out all the hectic rushing around we do during the week I guess. Slow things down, ignore deadlines and just go with the flow.
We don’t have those in my house. The four-footed one doesn’t believe in lazy days. She also doesn’t believe in sleeping in or altering a routine. She doesn’t understand when I need to rest or the routine gets messed up due to lupus.
Beloved attempted to have a lazy day recently. Get up when he felt like it, have a leisurely breakfast and just see where things took him. He told me the night before he was going to sleep in and just take it moment by moment once he woke up. He was confident in this plan despite me warning him that the four-footed one would be having none of this.
Of course when she woke him up as dawn was breaking he was not thrilled. The fact she was ready to start her day was lost on him. Granted I get being a bit grumpy when you get woken up at dawn because a cute little fou-footed companion needs to go outside. And yes it can be a bit ,cugh when that same cute bundle of fur demands her breakfast and play time right after coming in. And don’t forget the after play walk. All before 7 in the morning thank you very much.
I figured the two of them would sort out the lazy day by early afternoon, both of them napping, except that wasn’t the case at all. She was determined to make up for missed walks with him, and don’t forget about al the missed play time to. While he was hoping to put his fee to pay and read, it has her resting on his legs she was determined to get him walking and playing as if his life depended on it.
I, on the other hand, managed a nice lazy day!
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!
Friends I must confess I’m getting a wee bit annoyed these days. It has to do with walking the four-footed one. I’m not annoyed at walking her, although the extra long sniff sessions can be a bit tedious.
No friends I’m annoyed when I walk her with Beloved. I don’t think the man can walk for a solid minute without telling her to “come”, “let’s go” or “pick your nose up”. Now don’t get me wrong I’ve asked her to come if she’s been sniffing for a prolonged period of time. I just don’t ay it every minute.
I’ve tried to bite my tongue, but the more we walk her together and the longer the walk I find it harder to not say something. And the worst part is, the more he says it the more impatient his tine gets. Walking is no longer pleasurable and it is impossible to have a conversation with him because he is constantly telling the dog something.
In an effort to keep the peace, I’ve tried taking her on a walk alone, Beloved just invites himself and with him comes all those continuous comments. It’s like walking with a tape that is set on repeat. If I find this annoying heaven only knows what the four-footed one thinks or feels about this. I think Beloved and I are lucky she doesn’t speak, at least not human language at any rate.
The four-footed one has discovered the joys of a sprinkler on a hot, sunny day. Specifically the joys of running through the cool water. Now if only she’d learn to enjoy it in her own yard rather than stranger’s!
It started with a slow stroll on a lovely afternoon. Plenty of water for both of us, we each have our own, very different water bottles so there is no confusion, and sunscreen for me. Not a huge walk and certainly nothing that prevented us from stopping to smell all the different flowers out in bloom. We were basically enjoying our time, smelling the flowers, listening to the birds and enjoying each other’s company. A nice, peaceful afternoon.
And then she heard it. The distinctive ticking noise of an automatic water sprinkler. A new noise that simply had to be investigated in a hurry. Never mind the flowers or different types of grass to check out. We picked up our pace to check out the noise and sample the water on the pavement. Surely this would be enough for us to satisfy our curiosity I thought.
As soon as this thought popped in my head, there was a tug and she was off to run through the closest sprinkler. Not once, nor twice but several times. Until she was soaked and a good portion of me was as well. Before we left she tried to drink directly from the sprinkler because being soaked after running through all that water is thirsty work.
At least the home-owner got a good laugh at her antics from the comfort of his shade, dry deck.
The four-footed one decided today was a good day for Beloved to take her on an adventure. Just after the sun was up despite the fact he worked late into the night. She isn’t interested in how much sleep he gets, perhaps be uses she thinks he naps like she does.
With a bit of grumbling Beloved got on with getting ready for his early adventure while I rested in bed. In fairness the four-footed one and I normally partake of these journeys, except when I do not feel well. And I only stayed in bed for half an hour before I got out of bed to see to their breakfasts.
Typically these adventures are an hour to an hour and a half, which is why I figured after a half hour I’d be able to get out of bed and slowly make their breakfasts. That way when they came home they’d have freshly prepared food. Except as slow as my stiff fingers were, I still had the food ready long before they came home.
Beloved phoned to say they were just about home and needed towels and water. When I asked him why since it wasn’t wet when they left, he said one word “mud”. Now the four-footed one loves mud, first thing in the morning when it’s cool and smushy she loves to coat her paws in it. Normally I just hose her feet off once we are home since I’ve got towels nearby to wipe the water up.
This morning she decided to give Beloved a real treat by forcing him to join her in the mud. Because she evidently did her best to impersonate a pig wallowing in the mud. So she needed a bath before breakfast and I’m fairly certain that is not something my doctor would consider resting. Beloved was too busy tending to his clean-up to bathe the dog, so I did it. It’s just easier than having to clean the carpets and such.
Over his no longer fresh breakfast Beloved told me that these adventures need to be less adventuresome going forward. He said he cannot handle this much adventure before breakfast. He simply isn’t that adventuresome of a man.
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!
Five or six mornings a week I go for a long walk around sunrise. The four-footed one was less than thrilled when I started this routine, but she seems to enjoy the different smells that are present this time of day. I secretly think she enjoys the fact that the birds are a bit more sluggish and therefore easier to chase at this early hour!
I enjoy the stillness of human activity while we walk. A lot of mornings the only sounds and beings we encounter comes in the form of birds, squirrels and such. People on bikes or driving cars form the last part of the scene, the portion where we are almost home. This sudden onslaught of people reminds me just how noisy humans are.
Most mornings I look forward to reaching certain points on our walk so I can take pictures of what nature generously shares with me. However some mornings I don’t look forward to these pauses the same way.
Some mornings I see each of these stopping points as a goal to reach. On these mornings I don’t measure the walk as whole, instead break it up into se stopping points and remind myself that if I really cannot do it, I only have from the stopping point to home rather than the full walk. I try to not have too many of these mornings because they mean pain, stiffness, exhaustion and all the other fun things that come with a case of flaring lupus.
On a few of these lupus mornings, I cannot even enjoy what nature provides, I can only focus on one foot in front of the other. Thankfully those morning are few and far between. Unfortunately the mornings where I can ignore my health and focus solely on nature are never as many as I wish for. But each morning is a new opportunity.