It was a beautiful day here in Arizona, started in the 70s got to the 80s and back to the 70s again. I took my beautiful happy hound George! to the dog park.
We have tried to get there a couple of times but it was always occupied.
This evening we were home free and George! got some sprints in. My black beauty flew across the grass a few times. We were there till the sun set and I retrieved the leash from the smooth concrete table. I was ready to leave but hadn't told George! yet.
I called him, he hesitated then he came running, big smiles prancing my way. That was a first - he is usually a call me and I will come in my own time kinda guy. Sometimes I wonder why I bothered to name him. This time we were in sync and he came loping, held up in front of me and waited to get clipped onto the leash.
We walked home in the past twilight dark.
I knew I had to wait to feed him so I took the time to run to the grocery for a couple of things. I was back in 15 mins and he was still a little breathy - it could have been me being gone and his excitement on my return or it could have been him still worked up from his run. I sat and waited to see if he would calm. He did for a bit -- then he got up drank water -- looked into my bedroom and whined.
It was an odd whine - like there is something wrong. What's up bud, I asked. He looked into the bedroom and came to me, tucked his nose into my armpit and enjoyed some lovings. Then laid down. I didn't investigate. It was an odd moment that I passed off.
I fed him -- late, I got distracted -- he gave me the stink eye as I put 2 cups of kibble into his bowl, but when I put hot water onto the tripe I had spooned into his bowl, he leapt up and ran to the kitchen. They have very good noses these hounds.
I took him out for the last walk and when we came back he stared into the bedroom, ears up. I looked at what he was looking at and Simba was on his side, motionless, on the floor between the bedside table and the box that is at a cockamamie angle to the bed and beside table.
I held my breath for a second then called Simba, SIMBA! He didn't move and I thought Oh Lord, not now, not tonight please...I called once more and he slowly opened his eyes, one at a time and gave me a look that appeared to be ?what? I pulled him up, checked his paws and ears and belly. He was okay. Gave him treats, treated George! and wondered what I had missed. Simba always sleeps on the box next to my bed in the evening. During the day - he is invisible and late afternoon he has been on the chair in my living room on his blanket, but after dark he is on the box by my bed.
These guys don't have a cuddly relationship but they are aware of each other. Simba is 14 years old and has twitches. I wonder if something happened and George! sensed it. Or maybe he found a new place to sleep, which would have been odd to me and now maybe odd to my George!?
Simba leaps from my bed to the box and back again as he gently plays me awake. He is a wonderful hoot at that. My little furry friend who keeps time for me.
I hope he is fine. He appears to be. But he is 14 and George! almost 9. I appreciate George's attention and this evenings reminder to me to pay closer attention to the odd moments.
I know - a somewhat erroneous post - but I realize I spend time swimming in the future at the expense of the present.
Best,
Laura
p.s. iloveyou
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