There’s not a whole lot to complain about in my life right now. I’m heading to California in a little over two months, my husband is clattering away downstairs making a delicious dinner for us, and the puppy is gnawing on a bone right next to me. Life’s pretty nice right now, as a matter of fact.
Sure, there are some things that are in flux right now that are driving me a bit nuts. We’re getting our home loan modified, which is about as much fun to wait for as a tsunami. We’re waiting for our accountant to file our taxes and send us a nice refund check. We’re waiting for a tiny little person to take up residence in my uterus. None of these things are inherently bad, there’s just a lot of waiting going on.
To distract ourselves, Wes and I have each turned to our creative pursuits. I finished the second chapter of novel numero dos and Wes started recording and producing a song riff he’s been working out in his head. We’re losing ourselves in yard work, home improvement projects that can be done for free, and little social gatherings to help break up the monotony of waiting/living la vida cheapo (I’m not sure what’s with all the Spanish in this post either).
Doc sure is helping to break up the monotony. He and I were outside yesterday afternoon so he could do his business before it was bath time. He was helping me bring some sticks and branches out to the yard waste bin (he helps me carry light things in his mouth because when a pup’s got a job to do, he tends to stick around long enough to do it) when we walked over a puddle. A big, seductive, muddy puddle.
All you dog owners out there know what comes next.
Down go all the sticks he was carrying and in goes Doc, straight onto his back, paws flying up in the air like he just didn’t care. One horrified shriek from me and two vigorous shake-offs later and I had a newly widened muddy patch and a chocolate Lab, or at least a Lab with a really shoddy dye-job.
I finished bringing the sticks out to the yard waste bin and went about deciding what to do with this muck-raking puppy. I briefly considered hosing him off, but for some reason Doc smells really funky if you bathe him with hose water. I settled for rinsing off his paws, drying them all as best I could, and draping the stairs with bath towels so that he could get to the bathtub without touching carpet.
When interrogated later, Doc said he did it because he wanted to make sure I wasn’t growing complacent with the status quo. He’s recently taken to reading Voltaire and drinking absinthe in the afternoons and spends most of his waking hours imploring us to relinquish our material trappings and embrace the free life.
We’d normally turn a blind eye to this latest fad of his but, like I said, we’re stuck waiting for a bunch of stuff to happen so we’re humoring him for now. If you’ll excuse me, I have philosophical idioms to debate with my dog.