Siri and her best buddy Arlo came for a visit this weekend. Siri’s “mom” had to go to a special event, and didn’t want to leave the “kids” alone in the house for the few hours she would be away.
So it was decided that they should come and stay with their “aunt”.
Siri and Arlo are dogs, by the by. Siri is just a baby, Arlo is a budding juvenile delinquent – but he’s got ‘adorable’ down pat.
Uneventful is probably not the word to describe our afternoon.
One fluffy chew toy and two large rubber balls were happily destroyed. An old striped sock, discovered amidst dust bunnies under the bed, was joyously mutilated. One bowl of water was somehow upset although, when confronted, no one admitted anything. (Apparently the kitchen was completely deserted at the time.) And someone’s inquisitive nose was ever so slightly singed by being thrust too close to a pot of roast chicken coming out of the oven.
Ten passers-by on the sidewalk and 23 cars out on the road were eagerly threatened from behind the front picture window.
At a slow point in the afternoon, someone actually did an acrobatic leap off the back of the couch: I am sure it was merely a coincidence that someone else just happened to be passing behind the couch at the exact same time.
A number of molasses and beef flavoured treats were divvied up, despite occasional loud disagreements about who should get theirs first.
Several outdoor walks were undertaken with “enthusiastic” results, in spite of a minor, (and possibly off colour) shouting match with the Golden Retriever next door – engaged in, of course, from a ‘safe’ distance.
Later on, stretched very comfortably and sleepily out on the couch, all three of us watched the movie Coco. (Afterward I was informed that Dante the Dog was clearly the true star of the picture. The humans were incidental.)
Frankly, everyone simply had a marvellous afternoon!
It reminded me of why dogs remain mankind’s best friends.
They never seem to notice or care if we’ve put on a few extra pounds, or our choice of a Saturday morning outfit would not make the cover of Elle, or even of Hobo.
If we want to binge watch Dr. Who episodes from the last 10 years, or sixteen straight hours of the Kardashians, dogs just sigh, roll their eyes and settle in beside us.
They always know just how to break the ice at a stuffy formal dinner party by dashing downstairs with an old pair of panty hose between their teeth.
If we feel like a walk, so do they. And if we don’t feel like a walk, well, yes they still do, but at least it keeps us active.
Dogs plain like us.
That’s a comfort, isn’t it?