Explorations of mind, paths, and life

One of THOSE days

Posted on May 14, 2008 - Filed Under self reflect

On Wednesdays, Gizmo goes to Pito’s house to play and Pito gets to dog-sit his grand-pup. As soon as Gizmo hears the Kaliadascoping clack of my roll bag handles he runs for the door, because that sound only happens on Wednesdays, and only on Wednesdays is he allowed to get past the back door and fervently join us in the car. We drive the 2 miles to Pito’s, Gizmo shaking with excited anticipation of the toys he has left on the windowsill and the adventures he expects to have with Pito. This is puppy vacation to him.

Today turned out to be one of those days. To me, it was stressful and exhausting. We went to bed late, got up too early, I had too much on my mind, and a barrage of phone calls that interrupted class and added 6 appointments to my books within hours. At the end of the day I collect Gizmo and return him home. By then he has tortured every stuffed critter and mouthed every rubber toy. The house is a shambles with toys strewn about, some unrecognizable, some under chairs and tables, or behind doors. The house appears as if I were picking up a 3 year old. Gizmo lumbers to the door to greet me and I am slathered by a vehement barrage of tail-wagging licks and little nips. Such a greeting is better than a parade, or eating a slurpee on a hot summer’s day. It is a glorious and unconditional welcome, so energized that I almost don’t know whether to blush or tremble. As he gallops out the door and tears around the corner of the walkway, checking on my progress to the car, his ears perked to perfection, I know that the drive back is just as excitable as the drive to. The routine is the same. He jumps into the car, inspects for any changes from front to back, then waits on the seat until I get in, pouncing into my lap awaiting the “roll down” of the window. And there, he gloriously perches himself on the edge of the window sill, barely 18 inches long, balancing himself like a seasoned acrobat on the very edge of my knee so as to get as much of the rolling outdoors in his face. That is the last I see of his head until we land safely home.


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