Every morning, I get up and let Tigger the Dog out to do her morning business. I stand on the front steps watching her as she picks her spot. Sometimes it’s beautiful and I enjoy the time she takes. Sometimes it’s too hot or too cold and I grumble at her to hurry up. when she’s finally done, she comes back inside and I throw her two little treats as a reward for doing what comes naturally. This happens every day.
And yesterday, it occurred to me that I could base the success of my day on the success of my getting those two little treats into her mouth. Today should be a good one; each treat was received directly into her mouth. Yesterday, not so much. Yesterday the first treat bounced off her nose and landed on the carpet five feet away. She looked at me in confusion, as if to say, “What the hell?” I told her to wait and threw the second one – which hit her chin, ricochet off the dog bed and somehow took a sharp right and landed under the couch. We took a moment, both looking in the direction of the treat then she turned to me and with her eyes asked me, “Now what, dumbass?” With a shake of my head I walked over to the first treat, picked it up and re-launched. The treat landed on her bed not in her mouth but she managed to made short work of it regardless. The second treat had lodged itself right in the middle of the underside of the couch, right where the dust balls gather to hide from the vacuum. Getting it required getting down on both knees and reaching, arms sliding a path through the dustbowl to pluck the fuzzy treat out of the pile. I didn’t even bother with a second throw, I just placed it, woolly side down, on her bed. That was how the day started. It ended with a forty-five minute “visit” from The Mayor of Our Street as she campaigned for her friend running for council. Forty-five minutes she sat in the front seat of her car in our new driveway – the one we had to get because people used our driveway as a U-turn. The one she keeps says she was flabbergasted to hear that people used as a U-turn but then kept telling me how horrible it was when she used it as a U-turn… Anyway, forty five minutes as Husband HID in the house and I swatted bugs and tried to prevent TTD from jumping onto her somewhat white pants and debated if I should interrupt her dictation to ask if the mascara eyeliner smear was choice or if it was running away from her eyelids. As I don’t wear makeup and really wanted to get my dinner and my mother raised me better, I went with "choice" and kept my mouth shut. It’s a good thing we still have some Apple Pie Moonshine left because it made it all better. So did Husband rubbing my head as I passed out – I mean, drifted off to sleep on the couch. Side note: I got mail from Mom. I love mail from Mom. Mom communicates in comic strips, she always has. I have three large frames of comic strips she used to cut out for me regarding hair. I have them hanging in my studio and they make me smile and think of her every time I see her. My mom is awesome. Anyway, here’s a picture of my mail from Mom. Consider it a pallet cleanser after the image of our dust bunnies and The Mayor of Our Street’s makeup. I know I need one.
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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