Expectancy

Whoever said canines cannot anticipate the future was sadly mistaken.

Every morning after breakfast, Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge trot out to the kitchen and sit down near the kitchen counters and wait. They're expecting to receive their "vitamins" (a routine hip flexibility supplement recommended for Labs).

It used to be that we had to jingle the glass jar containing the supplement, a sound that differs from the plastic human vitamin containers. If we opened the plastic containers to get out our human vitamins, the dogs remained indifferent; but if they heard the glass jar being opened, they'd come running.

Now they come before the glass jar jingles. The "know" what's coming.

They do the same thing if we bring suitcases down to load in the car or if we remove their leashes from the hooks by the door or if I jangle the car keys: they know something good is about to happen, and they anticipate it.

They seem to look forward to what's coming with eager expectation and optimism. They embrace life (routine and not-so-routine) with exuberance.

I wish I could be more like them. Sometimes I get weary and tired and anticipate the worst. Instead of looking forward to what's up ahead, I'd rather hide and hope it goes away (okay, the dogs do that when they enter the vet's office).

I wish I could embrace life with gusto the way they do: play more, love better, smile frequently, tease with abandon, notice and appreciate little things (like Elsie's preoccupation with all-things-flying, including moths), and anticipate the best. I wish I woke up each morning eager to engage the world.

Sometimes I do. But lately I don't; not so much anyway.

I think Don's (hubby's) travels are taking their toll. This two-weeks-per-month overseas is getting old. I know I have nothing to complain about compared to military wives whose loved ones are gone (and in danger) for months or years at a time, but I miss him. The canine kids do, too.

While the cool weather has helped Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge return to some semblance of normalcy (eating, going outside, playing, teasing, etc...), there's just a little bit less zip in their prances and a tad bit more sluggishness in their behavior when Don's away. They also need more attention from me (more petting, more snuggle time, more play).

I guess I'm allowed to miss my husband; he is after all my best friend. I guess that's the price of a solid, happy, fulfilling marriage; it's tough to be apart (okay: I'm feeling sorry for myself today--so indulge me).

Having the company of our canine kids helps, but it's not the same. Like Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge, it's far easier to embrace each day with eager optimism when Don is here. He will be soon.

Hurry home, Hon.

Okay. Now I'm done. No more pity party. ;o)

Carpe Diem.

'Til next time,
Joan