Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six
Day Seven
Day Eight
Day Nine
Day Ten
Day Eleven
Day Twelve
Day Thirteen
Day Fourteen
Day Fifteen
Day Sixteen, Tuesday
Cleaning day at Nancy’s. She walked across the street at
nine-thirty, the day already warming. This time of year was like a teetering
act between summer and winter. Warm days, hot days sometimes, and chilly
nights, the air with a bite in it, an edge of freshness. Morgan unlocked the
door with her key, and heard Joey whining in her crate. She let her out.
“You don’t like being alone, do you? Me either.” Joey’s tail
wagged hard and fast. She tried to jump up on Morgan, who held her hand out
flat, a trick the kids taught her. “No,” she said, and squatted down to Joey’s
level, ruffled her ears, talked to her.
All morning, as she went from room to room, cleaning, Joey
stayed close by. Usually under foot. Except when Morgan pulled the vacuum
cleaner out of the closet. She laughed
as the puppy dove under the table, peeking out from behind a chair. “It’s
okay,” she told her. “I won’t get you.” But Joey stayed under the table the
whole time she vacuumed.
Sweeping was a different matter. Joey chased the broom and
scattered the dust piles so Morgan had to sweep them again. “No,” Morgan told
her, but Joey wagged her tail and pounced again. “Outside with you for a little
while.” She put the puppy out the back door. She raced around the yard once,
did her business, then came and yipped at the door.
Morgan remembered the big dog her boys had. It stayed in the
yard, never in the house, her own rule. She couldn’t stand the idea of a muddy,
messy, hairy dog adding to her workload. Besides, she had never been a dog
person. Never liked them, had no patience with them. The boys would play with
the dog in the yard, tearing up grass and plants. She ended up doing all her
pretty gardening in the front yard. The dog got old and died, and she didn’t
even care.
Now, with Joey, she enjoyed her. She could understand some
of her personality (funny word to use on a dog, she thought – “person”ality),
and appreciate her enthusiasm. She could see that the puppy was just trying to
please her, and that the puppy enjoyed being with her. Of course, Joey would
have preferred her own kids, but she knew Morgan, too.
I guess no person can match the exuberant greeting of a dog
when you arrive home, she thought. She used to greet Tom at the door, get a
hello from him. Then, he would go to the backyard and the dog would wag its
whole hind end, bark and jump in circles. Tom would laugh and play with the dog
a little. She remembered thinking she couldn’t compete with that. And decided she didn’t like dogs.
This puppy, though, wasn’t about competition. She wanted
companionship and comfort. Morgan found it easy to give, and get plenty in
return.
Have you browsed the buffet table of ideas over at The Nester? Plenty there for everyone!
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