You know it's time for a day off and some relaxation when you are excited to spend an entire day in the company of somebody who: has no thumbs, smells of lingering fish, and has a vocabulary consisting of grunts, huffs, and woofs.
On Wednesday night, Macy's mom dropped her off with a backpack full of toys and supplies, and specific feeding instructions. Erin kind of reminded me of a parent sending their child off to that first day of kindy-garden. Eventually we cut the cord, and Erin blazed a trail to Oscarville on her Ski-Doo.
Macy was kind of a pain on Wednesday night. She was a little restless without her mom, pacing and chewing on sheets. In the morning she heard the voice of Jimmy out in the kitchen. In the kitchen, Macy likes to corner Jimmy with her sad, beckoning eyes and rope him into giving her treats. It works every time. He's powerless to it. Jimmy's voice is to Macy as the bell is to Pavlov's dogs. This nonsense began early in the morning on my play day. OUR play day. During which, by the way, this little con artist managed to get herself a piece of steak, a leftover pork chop, and several pieces of cheese. Shameless she is.
After Macy calmed down, we got to sleep in, which felt realllllllly nice. I got up and cooked us some breakfast. (yes, she got an egg too) Our day was filled with games of frisbee, rope, loofa doggie and blanket monster. In between dogsports, I had many cups of tea in hopes of thwarting this illness which seems to afflict nearly everybody I have seen in the past couple of weeks.
When we weren't playing, Macy assumed a sentinel role, protecting the house from any would-be intruders.
Sleep well tonight, people. Macy is on point.
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