Why I do the things I do

This week I didn’t have a plan for what I wanted to write. It’s not that the boys didn’t do something strange or disgusting. They did. It’s not that we didn’t experience triumphs in training. We did. I didn’t have a plan or start gathering ideas. This is unusual for me. I like writing, sometimes. I love writing, most of the time. This week I was just going to take a pass. Few people would miss my weekly musings.

So, why am I writing so many words just to say “I’m not doing it and you can’t make me”? It’s not like I am getting a grade for this or making any money. I’m not. There is still some meandering before I get to the point. I figure my few-but-tremendously-appreciated readers have three choices. 1. Keep reading to follow the somewhat questionable path of my musings. 2. say “This chick is weirder than eating Reese’s pieces and mozzarella as a snack so I am leaving the table. Call me when you have a cute dog picture” and then bow out. 3. Skip to the last paragraph for the punchline/answer.  Do you, darlin. No judgement here. I love you whatever you choose.

I started writing this blog for a couple of reasons. Both are self-serving. I wanted to write as a way to maintain my mental health. I have to be better at taking care of myself if I want to help others. Writing helps me not overthink everything. The other reason was to minimize how many people had to hear yet another dog story but still get to talk about one of my favorite subjects.

I realized I was overdoing it when someone at school noted: “there’s always a dog story.” My excuse was that Percy was my Genius Hour/Passion Project I complete along with the kids so it was school related. People were getting tired of it. I didn’t want to annoy people or become tiresome, but I still wanted to share my delight in my dogs. Thus, I started this site. People could laugh at my boys, scoff at my frustrations, or just ignore it if they wanted to. It’s fine.

This brings me to tonight. If I didn’t want to write, why is this here? It’s Percy. He’s the reason. Tonight I sat on the couch not wanting to write, not wanting to play with the boys, not wanting to grade or vacuum or do laundry or the other million things on my list. Percy brought me a rope. Hard pass on catch tonight. He gave kisses. No. He knows me better than I do, though.

Big brown eyes keep staring at me and he keeps putting pressure on my legs and shoulders. I didn’t train him to do this and I am sure it is coincidental, but it helps me feel better when I am not quite feeling right. Every few minutes, he makes eye contact with me. It makes me feel loved.

This is why the boys are worth a muddy house right now and overworked dustpan and vacuum cleaner. They always make me feel loved. For those who can’t have pets for whatever reason, I’m sorry you miss this.

Percy (and Drake and Haas) made me write even if I didn’t want to. I wrote for me. I wrote to show how thankful I am for Percy, Drake and Haas. They let me be part of their pack. I still don’t like the cat. I bet yours is wonderful and I like cats in general. Mine happens to be just terrible. But that’s another post for another day…