Writing with the dogs
I am a retired lawyer. My former secretary frequently worked late. She had a little boy, and because of his needs, I was flexible about when she ccame in the morning. She was even more flexible about her morning arrival, and sometimes, as a result, she was in the office until 9:00 at night.
When my secretary worked late, she would have to pick her little boy up at day care and bring him to the office. Noise and confusion always heralded his arrival.
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He wasn’t a bad kid. He was just 5 years old, and had enough energy for everyone here, including my mother, our three dogs, and some of the neighbors. If a 5 year old’s energy could be bottled, none of us would ever have to drink coffee.
He was a helpful little tyke. He liked to use our vacuum cleaner to pick up dust and chase our dogs. My old dog, TJ the golden retriever would play with him for a time. Like most of his breed, he was a gentle, patient soul and was good with kids. There was one game that he didn’t like. This was “drag the doggy around by his collar”. TJ would ask me for help by hurling his 90 pound body into my lap, sending my keyboard and drink flying in several different directions. Once I unhooked the kid from his collar, he would forgive, forget and help the little guy select a game that was more to his liking.
Our other two dogs were West Highland terriers. Molly and Daisy did not like to play with our noisy little guest. Even before I heard him running down the hall, calling my mother’s name at the top of his lungs, I knew he was on his way. I didn’t even have to wait for the front door to open to know he was coming. In fact, I think my first clue to his eminant arrival came before he even left the day care center.
How, you might ask? Both Molly and Daisy would dive under my computer keyboard at about 90 miles per hour. You wouldn’t think one pound of plastic could break your nose, and maybe it can’t. However, it can feel like your nose is broken, and that is quite enough.
Until the little devil finally went home, the 2 westies stayed in my lap, under my keyboard. I’m sure the things they said to me in Dogeese would not play well in polite company. I never blamed them for trying to hide from the little monster. But, I can tell you that it is very hard to use a keyboard when it has eight moving legs under it.
