Ten Spontaneous Minutes
I'd ask you if every dog has an alarm clock installed in his brain, but I already know the answer to that. Cody is the only one we've ever had who threw a fit if I wasn't in my assigned seat in the dining room when it is time for Alexis' bus to pull up. I don't know how he knows, but HE KNOWS.
One day last week I had the nerve to try doing some work in the back yard when it was nearly Alexis o'clock. His head exploded all over the place. I think he cussed me out between frantic dashes from the back yard to the front to the back to the front and repeat, repeat, repeat. I'm not entirely certain because my butt-chewing wasn't in English or Spanish. What language do Havanese speak, I wonder?
Anyway, Cody spends the vast majority of his life waiting for The Next Thing That Happens On The Schedule. He wastes an awful lot of energy building himself up for the moment and then promptly turns into a deer in headlights when it's time for That Thing. Alexis o'clock, for example, entails thirty minutes of him frantically watching the door and then about four seconds of him running down the sidewalk to greet Alexis. She pets him once and he turns into a bumbling idiot who has no clue what to do next. He just stands there, lost and bewildered. EVERY SINGLE DAY.
I prefer Penny's perspective. If it's Nap o'Clock, she's sleeping. There is no negotiation. The remainder of the day, however, is up for discussion. She goes with the flow, never finding herself needing to be a slave to the front or back door like her spastic older "brother" is. She's a free spirit and prefers to live in the moment.
And when Alexis walks through the front door? Penny absolutely lives in the moment.
Ten spontaneous minutes of that. Every day.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Reader Comments (4)
Awwwwwwwwwww! That is the most precious thing.
My parents' corgi knows the Schedule but he's not a spaz about it. But he definitely knows when things should happen. Daylight savings always really throws him off.
I think if I had any semblance of a schedule, my cat would have it figured out. She'd be too cool to care, but she'd know. She is really really good at 7am as it is, not that I EVER wake up then....little jerk.
our kerry blue terrier is an absolute spaz about "the way things go". In some ways, it's awesome. I know our front door could be left wide open and she wont go anywhere because no one has appeared with a leash. In others, it's annoying as hell because she freaks out when anyone does anything not according to her percieved rules.
The podengo couldn't care less about what we do, so long as she isn't left alone in the house when it's dark. As far as she's concerned, we needn't even feed her.
Love the Penny Greeting pictures. I remember those kinds of welcomes fondly.
The Golden Retriever I got when I was 15 used to always be there waiting for me when I got off the bus. I don't know how she always knew when, but as the bus would pull up in front of the house, there she would be, sitting tall in "her spot" at the corner of the house, about 50 yards from the stop.
I'd step off the bus and look at her and she would start to wag. I'd bend down and put my hands on my knees and she'd wag harder. As soon as I'd call her name, she'd come bounding down the hill to greet me and we'd romp and play all the way back to the house.
35 years ago, and it still makes me misty, thinking about it. God, I loved that dog.
Absolutely love the way penny greets her.