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Salt lick

Graham is in Austin tonight at a monthly gig, and for the first time in awhile I have the evening to myself.  It's been a few months.  Last night, he left pretty late at night, and I went to bed shortly after, so it wasn't like it is when the club is open and I don't see him from about 6:00 p.m. until he comes home at one or two in the morning.  He won't be home until tomorrow afternoon, so I'll be spending a little more time on my own without him. This morning I told him I'd miss him terribly.  He pointed out that I went to Seattle for three!whole!days! two weeks ago. I don't see how that's remotely the same as his leaving me.

I did some putzing around. Stuff I sometimes do when Graham's not here.  Like thoroughly cleaned out the refrigerator. Plugged in my itunes to the big stereo in the living room.  Sorted some paper work.  Worked with Celosa and Fusilli on some commands. Gave the cat (Liv's cat Giblet is visiting while Liv is abroad for ten days) attention.

Then, because I'm not going to watch Olympics without Graham, I settled down in Crianza's chair to read my current book.  The cat settled in on the cushion behind me, and the pooches were at my feet, chewing on some rawhide.  About an hour in, my book (The Dog Stars, by Peter Heller) got unbelievably sad, to the point that tears were streaming down my face, but Celosa and Fusilli knew exactly what to do.  Celosa hopped up on the side of the chair and started kissing me. Methodically, assertively, almost dominating me in the way that Celosa always kisses me. It was, as always, comforting and overwhelming.  And when she hopped off, Fusilli hopped up and cleaned up my face, finding all of the salt trails on my cheeks and cleaning them up.  If Celosa kisses, Fusilli hugs.  And so he did. Pushing his body into me and telling me that everything was ok.  The cat was a cat about the whole thing.  These bodies, these little souls that understand so much.  I don't really need studies to tell me how emotionally connected they are. When they felt that I was ok, they got down and resumed whatever it was they were doing before.  But they never strayed far from me when I picked up the book again.

They want me to go to bed now.  Celosa hates it when we stay up past what she thinks her bedtime is.  Eventually, she goes on her own, but she doesn't like it.  Fusilli will just agree to be where ever I am. Right now, she's next to my desk, hoping that this last hop on the computer was for something quick, not a long game or facebook or blog reading.  The pooches are pro ipad. You interact more with a person if she has an ipad.  He's on the couch in the living room, ready to move on into the bedroom if necessary, but ok with just hanging out.  

Comments

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fallconsmate
Feb. 22nd, 2014 11:52 pm (UTC)
heh. i hear you on the dogs knowing bedtime...it hits 10 pm, shadow has moved up by my leg, letting me know it's time to go offline, and one more walk, then bed. the longer i take, the harder she "snuggles" against my leg.

same thing when i'm not feeling well, she's RIGHT THERE up against me, making sure i'm ok. she's a BOSSY little thing for a under 7 pound dog! :)

but that's why we love them, too. and it's GOOD to see you posting again!
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