Tuesday, December 23, 2008

I Am making My Dog Neurotic

He breathes so loudly that we can't sleep

in the same room. His legs so short I have to

lift his heavy body to go anywhere. I envision

a day when I am no longer able to do this and

keep working out and going to yoga so that I

stay healthy longer. My dog is saving my life.

We have his dog house in the living room.

Actually the living room section of my train car

roomette I live in attached to the barn garage out in

the country. Sounds horrible until I tell you it is

rent free. And nice. I come downstairs in the morning

for my cup of coffee and vanilla creamer. If I talk to

him he is up and mouthing off and talking back.

He has no sense of balance and can't just say good

morning. He goes on and on telling me things I

don't understand about his dreams or fears or

wants and needs. I finally tell him to be quiet.

Please be quiet. Now.

If I just stroke his little head he wakes up and finally

comes out and stretches his downward dog yoga

position and waits for me to put on my hooded

jacket. This morning he was unusually quiet. He

had accidentally (I believe) gotten trapped in the

garage part of the barn, and when I found him he

really let me have it. So he and the male Aussie

200 feet from my front door which is nearly

impossible lately for me to get to. I journal in the

morning and ask God questions. "God, why can't I

get to the gym?" My hand writes "Because you are

lazy." I believe God channels my hand through my

thoughts. It makes me feel better to believe this.

That somehow the truth will come out of my

subconscious or my conscious denial and set me


Once on the treadmill I turn to locate the dogs'

positions. My dog in the far corner behind the

third cardio machine. Hiding. Wiley is behind

me against the wall and I imagine I lose my footing

and am catapulted backwards and land on top of

him and break his back and he looks at me with

these eyes that can't imagine I am the last person

he will see alive. But that's not what's happening.

Usually my dog is at the treadmill, waiting for me

to finish. This morning he sulks and hides. I cut

my work out short and jingle the zipper on my

hooded jacket. Nothing. He doesn't move. I call

his name and go to the door. No response.

I pick him up and put him outside. Maybe his

feet are cold. I can't read his mind and he

doesn't speak english so we are at an impass.

Maybe he's tired. He usually climbs into his house

around 8 PM and I go upstairs to watch TV in bed.

But lately I've been downstairs until 10 or 11 PM and

I can tell by his mood that he would rather I be gone.

He loves me but hey, he's got his own schedule and

when it's time to go to bed he goes to bed without a

lot of fanfare. Just plops down on his pillow under

his red roof. So now, because of his unusually quiet

morning, because of his heretofore inability to sit

still during my workout which he seems to be able

to do now, I think something is wrong.

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