Mary Ann Hayes

I think my relationship with my dogs is a little out of whack. The other day one of my neighbors asked where they’ve been lately and I announced they were on restriction. I said this like I was totally disgusted, and I was. I know she thought I was nuts, but they’ve been very bad lately.

My dogs had been disappearing, running off into the woods for hours at a time and coming home filthy. Consequently, they’ve been restricted to outside on leashes or outside locked in the yard. They hate it. They come in the house and follow me around all day whining to go out. When I let them out, they sit in front of the gate barking to get out of the yard. Finally, I get to the point where I simply can’t stand it any more, so I let them out and they disappear. Next time I see them, they’re filthy and they want back in the house.  It’s never ends.

The sad thing is, even though they drive me crazy, I would be lost without them. They get me up and out the door every morning. They insist we walk for miles, regardless of the weather, and we walk fast. They are always in a major hurry, pulling me down the road. Sometimes we walk for three miles. Other times, it’s six. They just take me as far as they decide to go, then they turn around and take me home.

After our walk, they insist on doing tricks for cookies. We walk in the house and they herd me to the kitchen cupboard that holds their treats. Then they decide what tricks they’re going to do, regardless of anything I have to say, and they do them. If they don’t get enough cookies, they keep doing tricks until they get all they want. Then, I get on the floor and they watch me do crunchies. They sit on either side of me and stare. If I stop before one hundred, one of them will bark right in my ear.  I think they can count.

After that, they take a morning nap. I’m not allowed to join them.  My job it to sit at my desk and write for a couple of hours and then go take a shower. They sleep while I write and then they follow me to the shower. They camp outside the door for whatever reason. When I’m dressed, I go back to my office and start writing again. They wait comfortably on my couch for about ten minutes. When they are sure I”m engrossed in what I’m doing, they bark and whine and make me get up to let them outside. It never stops.

I’m not sure how I feel about all of this. I never counted on them being the boss of me. I might have to move out some day. Get a little place of my own. It’s just something to think about, anyway.

Later,

Mary Ann