I was a total grump when I left the house this morning. Lately, Hobbit’s been kind of a dork. This morning, His Dorkness ended up making me leave for work a half hour later than I’d planned. He decided that after I’d had my shower, got dressed for work and was doing my take my stuff out to the car/take the doggos out to pee routine – normally a five minute thing – he needed to chase the neighbors’ cat up the hill into the neighbors’ yard, then proceed to ignore me calling him back down. At which point I decided this defintely required me to march up said hill to retrieve him from the neighbors’ yard. To do this required dodging dog poop, scrambling through bushes, getting my still-wet hair full of those little brown things from the juniper bushes and getting my barely there balet flats full of soft, sandy dirt, freshly washed, lotioned and still slightly damp feeties coated in said soft, sandy dirt. All while wearing a maxi dress. Lovely.
At the top of the hill, I discover Hobbit’s made a new friend of the neighbors’ little scotty-looking thing. At this point, I was too cheesed off to be charmed by cute (he was cute, I was just not charmed at the time). Shortly after I got up the hill, the husband came out of the house. “Hi! Just retrieving my dog!” I call. The wife pulled up just then and suddenly, it’s introductions time! Seriously? I’m still trying to retrieve my wayward dog, now renamed PITA (Pain In The Ass), while wrangling my other dog who tends to go gaga over humans (did I mention I still had Lily Bean with me on this adventure? no? I still had Lily Bean with me on this adventure.) Instead of trying to make friendly introductions requiring me to take my focus off the task at hand – retrieving my dog so I can get back to the other task of getting to work (which I did mention to the couple I needed to do), asking me what they might do to help me retrieve my dog would have been heaps more friendly and helpful. Oh and also, not making squealy play noises and trying to pet and play with my other dog while Mr. Culprit PITA was still at large. It was one of the most surreal situations I’ve ever experienced. Like they really love visitors and almost never see other humans, so seeing one in the flesh was the most exciting thing all month! Asking me about anything other than the task I’m focused on when I’m that level of concentrating is about like asking me the bus schedule when I’m in the midst of solving a complex math problem. You’re lucky if I remember how to speak, let alone understand you’re asking me something.
I eventually did manage to get Hobbs back to the house. I ended up using the other end of Lily Bean’s lead as a makeshift lead for Hobbit, grumbly-grumpy-grinchy stomping in my peach colored dress and soft, sandy dirt-filled shoes all the way back to the door. I still hadn’t started my car. Screw it. I dumped the stuff out of my shoes when I got to the porch. I needed tea. Badly. I hadn’t had any yet, but thankfully
Lexi, my daughter, had already steeped a cup for me and it was inside waiting on the kitchen counter. My car was still not on and warming; the Feymobile really doesn’t like cold starts. At all. Tea accomplished, I made my way out to the car, taking a few minutes to let it warm while I sat in my driveway. Glowering. I didn’t even say my usual goodbye to Hobbit. Half an hour behind schedule. Grinch, grinch, grumble, grumble. Damn dog.
By the time I got to work, I was fine. A tad miffed still, but fine. I’d even gotten the juniper thingies out of my hair. On the way home, I admitted I needed to hug my darn dog and say I’m sorry. I know I’m kind of a control freak when it comes to my dogs. I can be awful, getting myself all worked into a tizzy over nothing much. My dogs are among my greatest teachers in letting go. Yeah, Hobbs was definitely a pain in the ass this morning and the whole situation was kind of surreal in retrospect. But I also need to learn to relax about him doing annoying dog things. He’s pretty awesome most of the time and it wasn’t quite the emergency it could have been had the loose dog been Lily Bean. And no one was hurt or lost. Not even me, though no guarantees on the lost bit. I’m pretty sure I’m always at least a little bit lost. As usual, the Divine managed to get me to smile, even through my grinchy cloud: on the way out of the drive, a small yellow butterfly flitted past the front of my car, the first of the season. The Divine often speaks to me in butterflies. It matched my dress. I smiled. I’m gonna go hug Hobbit now. And Lily Bean, just because. I’m sure I’ve been grinchy with her today, too. I am extraordinarily silly sometimes. Thankfully, my dogs and the Divine still like me anyway.