So, this morning I'm sitting in my converted-dining-room-turned-office, which is an enclosed room with only one entrance, trying to get some work done. Because of the way my office is set up, when I'm at my desk I can't see into any other rooms; it's less distracting that way. My only view is of four office walls and the hills outside my windows.
I'd fed and played with the dogs, they'd been out for their morning romp, and they were settled in for their typical morning naps. I thought I was good to go.
Then I heard the prancing trot across the kitchen floor.
Now, to understand my thought process, you have to realize that the prancing trot sounds completely different on wood-laminate flooring than the low-key lumber, the meandering mosey, the determined (foot-slipping) dash, or the pre-nap flop. When I hear the prancing trot's uniform cadence of staccato toenails clicking against the floor, I can almost envision Arabian Horses in regal glory high-stepping in a show ring. It's a head-held-high-look-at-me-I'm-so-proud-of-myself gait. And it sounds like one.
And that means trouble.
You see, I forgot one thing when I started work this morning; I didn't put the kiddie gate up between the kitchen and the hallway that leads to the off-limits-for-dogs-lands that dwell in the rest of the house.
As soon as I heard the prancing trot, I dashed out of my office into the kitchen to see who it was this time who'd been prancing and why.
Need you guess? Sure enough, I found Elsie in the family room, her pose boasting of her latest find: my 21-year-old son's hand-free cell-phone headphones, which he had "safely" left on the coffee table in the doggie-off-limits living room.
There she stands, ears perked, tail curled high and swaying happily, eyes alert (even gleeful) with three-feet of small-gauge electronic gadget wire hanging out of both sides of her mouth. Thankfully the earbuds, mouthpiece, and plug were still in tact.
"Look what I found, Mom! Aren't you proud of me?"
She looked so innocently impressed by her latest retrieve, I had to laugh. Yes, I told her "no" and took the headphones away from her, but after she complied, I couldn't resist patting her on the head and nuzzling her. She's so cute, I can hardly stand it. And she warms my heart.
LOL. The Labs are our giggle factor. They make me smile.
I will say, however, that they make it challenging to get any concentrated work done.
'Til next time,