Lucy’s New Routines

One of the biggest beneficiaries of my retirement has been Miss Lucy. Having me at home more often has transformed her schedule and after a couple weeks of her staring at me while panting heavily, clearly confused by my presence, she is now fully on board with having me around. She hangs out in the yard with me when I’m picking up sticks and getting up the leaves. She faithfully leads me to each deposit of her poops when it’s time to get them up, then happily starts rolling around in the grass on her back like a puppy.

When I come downstairs in the morning she comes with me now—a new phenomenon. As I roam the internet she sits on the sofa next to me until she gets hungry, then she jumps down and lets out a mournful howl and then an indignant sneeze, which is my cue to feed the poor thing. Once that’s done, I have to sit back down so she can eat her breakfast, since she refuses to eat while I am standing. Then the real fun starts. When she has eaten the last kibble she comes over to the sofa and begins huffing and puffing in a peculiar way—half hurumph, half sneeze—then she prances across the room on her tippy-toes. She performs this ritual each and every morning after breakfast to communicate her need for—peanut butter. Neither Pam nor I are quite sure how this tradition began. But it is one of Lucy’s true non-negotiables. She demands that either Pam or I smear a bit of peanut butter on the edge of her food bowl. It’s just how she rolls.

Then she follows me upstairs and sits on her sofa while I do my pushups and other exercises. She seems disinterested for the most part, but that all ends when it’s time for me to do my back stretches. At this point she is all about making sure I’m doing things right. She jumps down from her sofa and inspects me close-up, sniffing all the things that apparently need sniffing, making sure that I am cutting no corners. It’s quite annoying trying to stretch in competition with a 70 pound dog, but I make it through. Then it’s time for my shower. Lucy follows me and deposits herself at the entrance to the bathroom until I’m finished.

In other words, Lucy follows me everywhere I go. She does not insist on me engaging with her, she seems content just to be there with me in anything I happen to be doing. When I am at my desk in the library she will turn around three revolutions then collapse herself on the floor at my feet with a mighty groan—her hips aren’t as nimble as they used to be. By the end of her day she is more tired than she used to be. Lucky for her she has many favorite snoozle locations throughout the house…

I am convinced that God is somehow involved with the existence of dogs, that they were created specifically to be a comfort to human beings. They give us everything they have without judgement, they forgive us all of our deficiencies, they demonstrate love and loyalty to people who need help with both.  In exchange for all of that we are asked to put up with the occasional scatological hiccup, large quantities of dog hair and having to let them outside in driving rainstorms for their morning and evening constitutionals.

What a bargain.