The small dog greeted my return from the shop, grinning from amongst the cushions she had piled in the middle of the floor… a floor liberally sprinkled with the contents of her toy box and the recycling pile. One toy had been unstuffed and the spring moult appeared to have begun all in one go. You wouldn’t have thought I’d cleaned up in weeks… Ani had enjoyed a ‘mad half hour’ condensed into the fifteen minutes I was gone.
I’d cleaned up, honest I had… the housework was all done, beds changed, everything tidy in readiness for the visit this afternoon. And I had Stuff To Do.
There is an invisible and rising tide of tension when the requirements of duty and necessity begin to build up. It doesn’t matter whether or not you work well under pressure… the pressure is still there and it begins to creep into unconscious muscles and drive the focus into tight-beam. While you can work on adrenaline and caffeine, of course, it isn’t particularly good for you and there is a tip-over point when there is simply so much demanding your concentration that you cease to be able to concentrate on anything useful at all.
This work ethic malarkey has a mind of its own; a habit so deeply ingrained that you cannot shift its priorities no matter how hard you try. Things from ‘outside’ that require your attention have to come first and the closer to your own heart something gets, the further down the to-do list it slips.
Today, however, I was organised. Work done by afternoon, ready to deal with the appointment and then, I hoped, I could start crossing some more items off that list.
The meeting was late of course; time consuming and frustrating, yielding no immediate answers. Then the phone and other things demanded that I deal with them until I had just about time to nip to the village shop before it closed from its thirteen hour day. And then I would come back to the keyboard and the demon to-do list. Everything else was done. I might even get a bath first to relax before I started on the evening’s work… I walked back through the dusk and the daffodils pleasantly contemplating the idea…
The ball of black fluff grinned at me from its nest amid the ruin of my housewifely pride.
There was a long pause while we both weighed up the situation…
Being a well-trained two-legs, I grinned back.
I left her amid the cushions and went for a bath.
Sometimes we need a little anarchy in our lives to break the frozen immobility of a routine that pins us like a rabbit in its glare.
I wonder how she knows?
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
You have reminded me of all the reasons why retirement is a wonderful state 🙂 And our dogs ALWAYS know!
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They seem to, don’t they? 🙂
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Clever Ani! She knew you were under pressure and feeling tense, so she let all that pressure out for you! Did I detect the wee-est bit of guilt on that sweet face, though?
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Not so much guilt as a momentary pause to see how I’d react, I think 🙂
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Can’t really be mad, can you? Ani was just trying to give you a little relaxation time. Nothing like a bath!
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No, that’s the trouble. And she knows I can’t… 🙂
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Oh I love the last face!
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She is a real cutie 🙂
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I imagine that being incredibly cute is a survival trait of Darwinian proportions. Go Ani!
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I sort of have to agree with you there, Barb… and she uses it to full effect 🙂
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Watching, Waiting,Wonderful! Ani!
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Always 🙂 On all three counts 🙂
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We pander to Dog. Like you, the occasional return reveals a Kapok massacre and a balancing between we species as to whose reaction will suppress the other. Dog wins. Good on Ani for finding the weakness in the product stitching, saving you countless hours teasing the seams. The one time I was less than sanguine involved a bean bag, a squizillion polystyrene balls, and a trip to the vet when it was plain a fair few had been swallowed. All things come to pass, as the Vet told me.
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LOL… I don’t allow bean bags in the house 🙂 Stuffing, I can handle. The arrangement works well… she never damages anything that isn’t hers. Apart from the recycling… and rearranging the cushions… and being an effiecient food disposal unit… 🙂
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We’ve learnt!. The number of plastic cartoons – yoghurt, meat, cheese that we are sure have gone out only to be found in hi bed… sounds like a similar pre- recycling in your house too.
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Very familiar… 🙂
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Reblogged this on Anita & Jaye Dawes.
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Lovely post. I love the first picture. I’m sure she’s thinking, ‘Ooh, didn’t expect her back so soon.’
Ani has my dad’s duck in the last pic. I bought it for him at the animal toy dept in a garden centre. He had dementia and stroking different fabrics seemed to calm him and the duck was a great favourite.
I like your expression – an invisible and rising tide of tension. I know that feeling too well.
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Ani has a few toys that do not get thrown, unstuffed or tugged… the duck in one of them.
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AH! Trouble. I’m surprised that duck hasn’t lost his squeeky and his stuffing.
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This is one of the special toys … it gets looked after and loved 🙂
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Oh Ani! Made me smile – Oscar has a mad half hour too, but it usually involves pleading for and chasing the “red dot” . 😀
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Ah… she hasn’t got one of those… wonder why?
🙂
Much love, Ani xxx
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Oh apparently they drive dogs crazy, real crazy! 😱 Oscar delights on sliding across the floor on his furry feet, and there was an incident with an oil painting….
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Ah….
😀
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Wren has that same quack-quack duck toy! First she ripped the wings off, I sewed up the holes. Then she ripped the neck seam, which I repaired and next made another hole & was chewing on the squeaker tube when I wrested it away from her. Do I repair it again or let it go? It’s always something … if they weren’t so stinking cute, we might actually try to discipline them, but they would figure out some way to get around us. 😉
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The first one she had went the same way… but this one doesn’t for some reason.
And yes, they only have to do the guilty look and the puppy dog eyes…
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They know how to play us so well!
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Always 🙂
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I’m a dictator! I admit it – when my little in-house anarchist gets geared up, I ask if we can please delay by 30 minutes or so – and when she knows (through anarchist radar) that simply won’t do, she does her best to clamber on my lap and do her ‘deep throat woof-woof Meditation chant” to let me know I’d better pay attention – 🙂
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… and when that lap is between you and the keyboard, it is a pretty effective tactic 🙂
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