Conflicting Accounts of the Same Story

In the morning, I wake to the sound of the radio DJ's talking mindless chatter at the highest volume the clock radio will allow. If I don't, I won't rise at an early enough hour to make sure I arrive at work at the appointed hour. Ever since my husband purchased a new comforter and realigned the bedroom to look a little more like a place you sleep, my buddy is kept outside the bedroom by one of those child-proof gates. I stumble from my resting spot to my workout clothes neatly placed the night before. I fumble to get dressed. I pull the latch on the gate and awake the sleeping beast from his slumber. His excitement to see me makes me fully aware that now he must get out that door so he might relieve himself. Of course, I get to go first; I have a lower tolerance for the pressure on the inner walls of my bladder than he! I finish my business and trek to the door. He anticipates the lock turning and that big green block being removed from his path. He sprints down the front steps to his normal dead little tree; dead from his use of it. He scampers back up the stairs and awaits for the green monster to once again open. He sprints ahead of me to the kitchen (right by the fridge) where he will receive his morning reward. He eagerly sits up and then receives his treat. Running to his spot, he devours the small token in about 3 seconds flat. He then waits to hear the familiar sound of the leash being removed from its nail in the stairwell. He runs to be 'dressed' for his morning walk. We trek outdoors and find a direction to go. He is familiar with several routes and the one we choose makes no difference to him. He prances along; almost as if he is showing off. He stops occasionally to let the world know he was there. The walk is one of the highlights of his day. He really doesn't care for the chain that he has to wear around his neck; he would much prefer to run ahead and then stop to look back and see what is taking me so long to catch up. However, the city would not allow that sort of freedom. When we return to the house, he eagerly laps up a drink and waits while I prepare my first meal of the day. He knows he will get the end of that banana; and that suits him just fine. We step out into the back yard, where he runs from tree to tree hoping to catch that squirrel that (to date) has eluded him. When I complete the ritual, we return to the house and then he takes his spot in the hallway; waiting for me to do what I do to get ready for work. When I choose to work from home, he sits directly behind my chair; almost as if he is guarding me from any harm so I can focus at the task at hand. When I get up, he follows. His hope is that the chain in the hallway will jingle, but most times, it is just a 10-minute romp in the back yard. His entire day is spent close to my side. When I retire to the living room for the evening, he sits at my feet, hoping I will rub his belly. When we sit out on the front deck, he brings his tennis ball to me and begs for me to throw. He promises he will bring it back at some point. He just wants to play! At the end of the day, as the gate closes and I settle in for my night's rest, I can rest assured he will guard the room from any harm. He waits for the sound of those DJ's telling him it is once again time to be my buddy for the day!

In the morning, I wake to the sound of the radio DJ's talking mindless chatter at the highest volume the clock radio will allow. If I don't, I won't rise at an early enough hour to make sure I arrive at work at the appointed hour. Ever since my husband purchased a new comforter and realigned the bedroom to look a little more like a place you sleep, my little girl is kept outside the bedroom by one of those child-proof gates. I stumble from my resting spot to my workout clothes neatly placed the night before. I fumble to get dressed. I pull the latch on the gate and she comes running from her spot on the sofa to greet me. She pays no mind to the fact that she has to go outside. Instead, she joins me in the 4X4 room we call a bathroom so she can be with me all of the time; my shadow. We head for the door. She eagerly awaits for the barrier to be removed; but waits for her brother to go out first. She then follows me out the door and sits to wait. She rarely goes down the steps first thing in the morning to relieve any pressure. She would much rather be with me. We head back inside. She follows me to the kitchen and assumes her position on the green rug sitting in front of the sink. She sits up ever so pretty and waits for the treat to be placed neatly in her mouth. She runs with her prize to the sofa and daintily eats it; leaving crumbs in her wake. No worries though, her brother will clean up her mess. She then joins me wherever I may be. If I run on the treadmill, she lazily eats her breakfast and waits for me to finish. If I pull the chains from the nail in the stairwell, she jumps for joy. She bows her head and waits for me to pull the choker over her head. Out the door we go and she is always excited; up until the point we reach the sidewalk. She then stops dead in her tracks as if she knows she isn't suppose to cross that threshold. I gently pull on her leash to remind her that it is okay. She likes the way the choker rubs her neck as we walk. I get a fantastic arm workout as we trek on the path. She stops only once to do what she needs to do. The rest of the time, she moves along as if she is on some sort of mission. When we return home, she sits nicely at the door and waits for me to remove her choker. I open the door and she runs to the bedroom gate to make sure PawPaw is still slumbering. She then comes to be with me. I trip over her frequently as I attempt to prepare my first meal of the day. I sit at the table and she moves to the sofa; not interested in bananas and oatmeal. When I head out the back door into the yard, she shoot off like a cannon to run the normal route. She is fast - but is unable to keep up with the furry critters in the yard. After one attempt, she returns to my side for the affection she knows she will receive. When I am finished, she returns to the house before I can take the step up. She really prefers to be indoors it seems. While I get ready for work, she waits patiently on the sofa. She is forbidden from the bedroom; unless I leave the gate open just enough she can push her little nose in. She can frequently be found under the bed during thunderstorms; even if the gate is latched. Whether I work at home or in the office, she can be found on the sofa. She is like a cat, sitting on the back looking at the world outside. Sniffing and barking, she spends her day right there. When I get home at night, she greets me by jumping on my belly. She is willing to share her kisses on my arms and face. No matter where I go, I can assure you my shadow will be right there with me. When I retire to the living room for the evening, she will be right there on the sofa with me. Pawing at my hand on the mouse for a scratch on the belly or snuggling next to me in hopes I will lie down and cuddle with her. At the end of the day, as the gate closes, she looks at me with those sad little eyes as if to say I have forgotten about her. She retires to the sofa where she will wait for the familiar sound of the DJ's telling her once again that she will be my little girl for the day!

Funny how the two are so very different yet both are my dogs! I understand the love of a parent; I would do anything for them. My buddy and my little girl; Topos and Sedona.

C'ya!