Oh sure, I'm still in my "off days" mentality. My "support team" is out of commission so I can't train like normal.
Well, normal for me. For you it may be excessive, but it's my groove and I want my groove back, Stella.
I'm between dog walks now. Up before 5AM. I take two walks before most people get to work. Looking at my watch, it says that I had "6.00 Km" of distance. Roughly 3.6 Miles for the Metrically Challenged. 6500 steps and it is not yet 8AM.
That second walk is because I dared to laugh at a viral picture and my foot hit the floor.
Rack, The McNab SuperDog (TM), literally leapt to his feet and practically ran to the back door wanting Out! Now!.
Fine, Dog, I'll get up. Rinse the mug out in the sink so I can pour the coffee grounds into the garden. "Gardener's Gold" it was told to me years back and I can't forget that. What passes for soil here in South Florida is Coral. Beach sand. Not very nourishing.
Actually, Rewind that a little. There are always quirks but this Dog is forcing me to realize that my days home are waiting on him to finish things. I'm up early and I put on the CBC on the internet radio so I can listen to the news.
If I do it right, I am able to get things done, but it is never completely right. So I have to go outside and stare at the dog so he gets things done instead. I'm standing in the yard with nothing on but a pair of boxer shorts waving my arms in the air saying "Go On!".
It is a secluded yard but with our two week winter approaching, I know I'll have to dress for that.
There is a cat that is trying to colonize the yard and we won't have that. I'll disabuse that cat of that attitude if I can, but meanwhile, Rack isn't being so SuperDog and he's afraid of the yard now.
After that, we have a weird ritual. Feeding him. He's not a morning person and will simply sit down and ignore his food. That can take upwards of 45 minutes for what at the next feeding takes under 3. "You definitely are not a Lab, are you?"
Finally he finishes, we go out into the predawn gloom. In all reality, this allows me to enjoy the cool morning air. I get to see things not everyone does. Step outside, look East toward the sunrise yet to come.
When I am back at training, I rush through this ritual and cut the walk short, but I have seen things like the morning skies doing an impression of the South Carolina State Flag. The state scares me as being too redneck, but South Carolina has a rather nice flag. Crescent Moon over a Palmetto Tree.
Coming home, it's back into the kitchen. Having a high metabolism, basically like at the level of a high school teenager athlete, means I am constantly grazing. So I am up and down all day and every time feet hit the floor, I have twin brown laser beams following me into the kitchen, asking for some.
Thankfully I can say "Not For Dogs" and he understands he isn't getting even a sample.
That doesn't mean I have freedom from twin brown laser beaming eyes. I've even had to go into the laundry behind closed door to get something for myself.
The ritual is feet hit the floor. Rack runs to the door. I let him out and he wanders around watering my Hibiscus. Normally I can have enough time to maintain my carboload before he comes back. If he takes two steps out, turns around, that damn cat is back in the yard and I won't have peace. So back outside, hopefully wearing more than just the boxers, so he can have his time.
Twice a week there is the ritual of making his food. Of course I am in and out of the refrigerator getting ingredients. He waits. He knows that there is going to be the frozen peas. Then he will get a small handful of them in his bowl. Until then, more staring. Tasty Green Ice Balls!
Thinking of that, I wait. It could be worse, he's well behaved, we can actually leave food out on the counters, but I will get stared down.
Finishing the first glass of Iced Tea I want a second. Feet hit the floor. Dog runs to the back door. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. I let him out and make that second glass. In the time he takes to do a circuit of the yard, I answer two texts, seat and fit test the active noise cancelling earbuds, and get set up on the rocker for later activities. Check that door, he's still wandering. Too early in my book for that next snack.
I'm waiting. It's a feedback loop. It is a cycle of this doing things and waiting on the dog to finish his thing. I could break that. The house needs vacuuming. Since it is cooler, the windows have been open and the breezes are predictably from front to back of the house. That chases the fur balls out from under the furniture and tells me I have a task to do.
Or so I tell myself. Actually, it gives me a break. Someone furry doesn't like the vacuum, most dogs do not. Open the hall closet, drag out the vacuum, and Rack is up, trotting into the bedroom closet for a hiding place and waiting on me for a change.
Ahhh back on top again, like a proper Apex Predator! Soon! I shall have a clean house! Until then, You get to wait on Me!
No comments:
Post a Comment