An ordinary day, every day, every single day
begins with the dog plopping herself across my sleeping body.
55 pounds of get up, get up, I am ready to play…
I need food
I have to pee
I want to play.
I manage to open one eye.
I could just as easily close that eye as open the other.
I lay there discussing that with myself.
55 pounds smashed across my side, pinning me down under the blankets
begins to feel like 75 pounds.
I need coffee to face this ordinary day. She wants to play.
She stares me in the eye with love and trust that every day, every single day,
I will eventually get up and face the day, and feed her, and take her outside,
and play with her.
The next three hour routine I know well.
Get up.
Let the dog out.
Breathe in the lovely forest mountain we live on.
Assess the weather.
Come in.
Grab the dog bowls. Pour the water into the coffee pot.
Sometimes I forget to turn on the red button that keeps the pot warm…..
then things are not so ordinary.
I wash the bowls, fill the water one.
Wash out my coffee cup.
Fill the bowls with fresh water and prepare the home made dog food.
Give her home made jerky since she is patiently waiting.
I don’t move very fast.
Give the dog her food.
Heat up muffin, pour my coffee, count out the supplements,
read my e-mail while she eats.
Then it’s time to make our breakfast before the dog walker arrives.
I cook, she stares out the window waiting. Intensity in non-motion.
Wiggling without movement.
Anticipation of the possibilities of the day.
Life is about ordinary days. Some say boring. We relish them.
After a lifetime of in-your-face rat race, trying to please the world,
trying to save the world,
trying to fit everything in, do it all, not miss anything,
ordinary days are here.
No appointments till after noon,
A second cup of coffee follows the first,
the dog brings her toys one by one and lays them at my feet.
Let’s play she says.
Ordinary days can be quite extraordinary when you live with 55 pounds of fur and a smile.

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