this is daisey with her dreamy morning face on, after the initial morning excitement: just after hopping out of bed, scrambling down the stairs, heading straight for the backyard to do her business, jumping back in the kitchen and dancing and wagging and full-body-wiggling at the excitement of seeing ME, after having slept right by ME all night long. every morning, this is the great gift i receive from my little friend. joy at seeing ME. me? yes, me.
every morning i am taken aback by her love and devotion. and every morning, i pick her up, swaddle her with my arms and hold her to my chest just like a baby with her head leaning on my shoulder, and i sway and sing to her. silly songs i make up, all about daisey, sometimes repeats, sometimes new. later, as the morning unfolds, i often catch daisey sitting in the kitchen with a faraway look in her eyes, like she's remembering a dream.
even later when she fully wakes up, she follows me around the house now with a pleading look in her eyes until i take her out for her beloved walk. we have a morning route and an afternoon route and an evening route, and she knows which one we're doing and heads in the right direction, leading me. every morning trotting happily on her way, not even looking to cross the street, totally trusting that she is safe (and thus always leashed to her little harness), sniffing and piddling along our morning route. i consider it a successful walk when i have not pulled once on her leash, but let her take her sweet time, which happens more and more often these days.
reminds me of a sailing lesson i learned long ago, that when coming into the harbor, you can tell the experienced sailing crew from the novices because they're all doing the right things without having to shout at each other. daisey and i are like that in our quotidien routines, dancing and singing and walking along the sweet harbor of our life.
please let me be the person my dog thinks i am.
(great quote poster found on one of my favorite blogs, sfgirlbbybay). http://www.sfgirlbybay.com/2010/02/10/how-much-for-that-doggie-in-the-window/