This past summer, we went away with extended family for a multi-day, multi-generational getaway to enjoy each other’s company courtesy of my generous sister and brother-in-law.
By the end of the trip after enjoying conversation, games, and laughter with all my extended family, my brother-in-law’s mother commented that I was probably really looking forward to seeing my dogs. And I was. This harmless comment would not have meant much if I hadn’t received the same from various other members of my extended family as well. By the time I heard it for the third or fourth time, it dawned on me…they think I’m a crazy dog lady.
Admittedly, I have been struggling. Since COVID, fewer social events, and my introverted nature, my world has gotten smaller. Being a person who has no head for news headlines or pop culture (maybe a little…thanks to having kids), does not lead an Instagram-worthy life, and cannot even remember what I had for breakfast, my conversation can drift toward the little household moments that occur during my day. This can have the effect of featuring my dogs quite prominently and making eyes glaze over.
For myself, I am fascinated by the nuances of everyday life, yours or mine. I love all those little tiny moments that make a life as they tell so much about a person. I would absolutely love to hear about your trip to Greece, but I am equally fascinated to hear about how one of your kids stranded you on the toilet with no toilet paper near to hand (not that has happened to me, but if anyone in my family happens to feel convicted…!) or your victory in getting your whites whiter.
Part of my failure is delivery. I write because I do not verbally English well. I continually marvel at people who can tell a good story with rapt attention without a teleprompter.
For example yesterday, this was the summary of my day when someone asked me what I did for fun…”Oh, I let animals in and out, worked, read, painted a wall.” The listener stifled a yawn.
It’s hard for me to convey to someone that my black-and-white days are actually exploding with color.
This is what a day might sound like if I could English better.
This morning, I awoke not to my alarm which was set to go off in a matter of minutes, but to the intensive sounds of banging of metal on metal. On investigating, I discovered that the guinea pigs have realized what time I wake up, and Georgia was letting know me she was hungry by grabbing the metal door with her teeth and smashing it repeatedly.
Do you have a guinea pig alarm clock?
Around noon, I let Kiwi, my daughter’s lovebird, out for his afternoon cage-free time while my daughter was at work. After about three hours, I came back in to put him away. Being another animal in our home who is smarter than me, this six-inch bird can only be lured into his cage with a treat. Upon re-entry into my daughter’s room, I felt his eyes watching me expectantly. Then as I grabbed his millet, he proceeded to fly to the top of my head and supervise whether the amount I had in my hand was worth going back into his cage. When he deemed it worthy, he flitted from my head to my arm to his bowl. He then watched me deposit the treat and then attacked my hand when I didn’t withdraw it fast enough.
Have you ever been quality-controlled by a hand-biting lovebird?
While working, I gazed out my window and saw our short-tailed raccoon coming for his pond time. Padding about, looking for something tasty to savor, he dipped his paws in the water, took a little drink, and then slipped noiselessly through the fence to our neighbor’s while redistributing his girth to allow him to slip through the small square opening. Wish I could do that.
Do you get jealous of the fat distribution talents of your local wildlife?
This evening with the clock reading 7 p.m., I felt her eyes watching me. Marin (dog) loves bedtime, and every time I stood up, she headed hopefully in the direction of the bedroom. Unfortunately for her, it was one of those nights where lots of loose ends needed tying up before bed. Up and down the stairs she followed me as I tidied hoping to convey with her presence that it was bedtime. Finally, I headed to bed, and she tucked herself into the nook of my arm and fell asleep almost instantly. When I decided to just grab a final load of laundry and jumped out of bed, she looked annoyed, but then put her head back down and continued to sleep confident that I would return shortly.
Does your bedtime get dictated by a small dog?
Such simple boring moments in my day to most people, however, they provide me endless delight watching all these personalities, wild and tame.
There is really no point to this story other than if you find yourself stuck in a conversation with me thinking of me as the crazy dog lady conversationalist…maybe lean in, read between the lines, see the color, ask some great questions, and be patient.
Because then and only then will you confirm undoubtedly that I am indeed a crazy dog lady but crazy in other areas too.
I embrace diversity.
I’d rather be known as “the crazy dog lady” than a “people person.” Because I may have lost my mind, but I found my soul. - Unknown
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone in Canada!
I don't know..maybe crazy is living WITHOUT animals..how utterly boring that would be!
This is a keeper. Can so relate. Thank you.