Life with two dogs in the house in the middle of winter can get a little dicey. It’s kind of like having two elementary-age kids out of school for an extended period of time. After awhile, they get on your nerves. Actually, they get on each others’ nerves. I’d like to send them out to play, except one of them wouldn’t return on his own. That would be Ike, the itinerant wanderer.
About an hour ago, both were upstairs, each on the bed of his choice. They’d been hanging around, waiting to see what might happen, but when they realized we were cleaning bookshelves and purging books, they lost interest. There was no food involved in that activity.
Then the doorbell rang and a phone rang. Twice. Down came the two canines, eager to welcome whoever had come to visit. Much bounding and jumping and sniffing ensued. Alas, that person of interest left and they sallied off to the bedrooms again.
Ten minutes later the doorbell ran again. Eight feet hit the floor with a crash and they barrel down the stairs, somehow avoiding the paraphernalia lining the stairway. This time it’s the computer whiz kid, who, lucky for the dogs, loves them. He greets each one, rubbing bellies and scratching ears.
He escapes to the basement office, shutting the door behind him. Stymied, they sniff at the door for a few seconds. This time they’re too tired to climb the stairs again, so they choose the nearest soft spot.
At the moment, both are asleep — one on the couch and one on a rocker. Both are snoring, appearing to be oblivious to the activity (or inactivity) around them.
But that can change in an instant. It’s like having a baby in the house. You try to be SOOOOO quiet, and they can sleep through just about anything. But then the phone rings. Or the doorbell.
A friend with young children recently threatened to post a sign on her door: Baby sleeping. Don’t ring the doorbell.
Maybe I’ll try it.