Wrapped in my warm duvet, Marin (Chihuahua) curled up at my side, Lizzie (Beagle/Jack Russell) down by my feet, and Mark (husband) sleeping beside me, I was in the bliss of a Saturday morning…no alarms…no work commitments that couldn’t wait. I would have said I was ecstatic except I was also asleep.
But I have dogs.
And not just any dogs.
I have a Ronnie (German Shepherd/Kelpie).
It started with the soul-searing stare that wakes you up from a dead sleep with the sense that everything in the world is not as it should be. Rolling over and gazing over the side of the bed, I am met with two big brown eyes. Every dog owner knows this stare, I can be fast asleep in the middle of the night and feel it across the room. If you say you don’t believe we live in an energetic universe, get a dog. Their energetic communication is clear and concise, and in Ronnie’s case, he said...
I want my breakfast.
I groaned, told Ronnie it was not time for breakfast, and he had another 30 minutes, and then put my back to him.
Ronnie, our latest foster, has a voracious appetite. Having ruled out medical causes for him being such a hungry nose, I can only assume from my layman’s perspective that he has either suffered life circumstances that made accessing food difficult or he has dementia…I favor the former given his very lean appearance when he first arrived at our home, but with the agreement of a midnight snack and a consistent eating schedule, we have reached a point where he doesn’t seem as anxious about the next meal.
That said, he still is always hungry.
When the soul stare didn’t work, Ronnie decided that elevation was required. He mounted the stairs beside our bed which assists our geriatric residents to snuggle at night, sat on the top step, and resumed his soul stare. This time, the covers went over my head like maybe I could ward off those laser eyes with a duvet.
Not phased in the least, Ronnie deployed the third weapon in his arsenal…the poke. After a minute of hiding under the covers and learning that duvets do not ward off soul stares, I felt the paw…poke, poke, poke.
I pulled in my leg and cocooned. The second, poke, poke, poke lacked the power of the first one because duvets will cushion the paw action.
After another minute, I heard him retreat to the floor.
Thank goodness for Marin though. If there is one thing Ronnie is scared of, it’s Marin. With her 9 pounds of chihuahua fury, Ronnie is hesitant to get on the bed unless I hem her in with pillows.
Sighing with relief, I resumed my sleeping position.
Scrape, scrape, scrape.
I had forgotten the fourth weapon in Ronnie’s arsenal, scratching on the bathroom door.
Why don’t you just feed him, you may ask? Because we would go through the whole routine the next morning just half an hour earlier.
Schedules are sometimes the difference between controlled chaos and anarchy.
Anyway, Ronnie was effective in getting me out of bed, and he skipped around with joy. To assert my own “you are not the boss of me” independence, I grabbed my phone and hid in the bathroom for the remaining 20 minutes on Facebook. Ronnie believing that I just going through my usual morning routine went back to sleep assured that breakfast was on its way.
This is not a daily occurrence…thank god, but I have to admit deep down I admire his persistence and love it. From the anxious, quiet dog he was when he arrived requiring lots of reassurance and cuddling to the self-assured food-demanding hound he has become, he epitomizes what I love about fostering dogs.
If human thoughts were to be applied to Ronnie and our other fosters, I would say that by giving them a safe, loving, and supportive environment, they can return to themselves and remember their innate value. What better gift can you give anyone, human, canine, or sentient being…it fills my soul.
What Ronnie in my mind says as he pokes me with his paw is…
I matter.
I deserve to occupy space.
I deserve to have my needs met.
I want my eggs over easy with a side of sourdough toast.
Every snack you make. Every bite you take. I’ll be watching you.
-Anonymous Dog