Joke played about 4:20. The timer was exactly there when I looked the first time. It is currently 24:11, on the timer that is. Anyhow, I have a house guest. Like a reminder from the heavens why I don’t want a dog. For those of you that may not be up to date, my first post was inspired by the desire to adopt a puppy Prince, the day before Prince died. I decided to write about it.
So now, after letting myself fall for a slightly too submissive dog, Walker, but what a lap dog he’d make! He would’ve matched my purse. I had designed the perfect pillow, to sit below Walker to protect the contents of my purse and maximize his comfort. I had seriously considered getting this dog. Then I failed the competition, which seems to be a pattern in my life as of late, but I’ll save that for another time.
Today I am experiencing the joys of not being able to nap because there is a dog here that already spent the day alone and I couldn’t bring myself to put her back into solitary confinement. Not the way my pets were ever treated, but I digress. I even went so far as to haul her up onto my bed and see if she would take the hint and have a nap herself. She is now demanding attention. In her brilliance, she walks to the front door, does whatever is necessary to get my attention, walks over and touches her leash with her nose and walks back to the door.
To her bafflement I don’t get it. She has been unable to get me to hook her up and take her out. But I don’t feel like going out. I feel like writing, which is what I prefer to do on a Friday evening when I have the house to myself for the first time in days. Dinner in the oven, write, wine and a big meal, bed. Sounds heavenly. Clearly my favourite evening all week. I don’t expect myself to do much more than that, except when I have Sophie.