It was an absolutely gorgeous, sunny winter day last week in South Pasadena, California, just a tad under 80 degrees with bright blue skies and fresh, rain-washed air. It was the kind of day for which people uproot their entire family and move here!
My faithful Terri-Poo, Bree, and I were on the back porch soaking in the sun. Bree was enjoying the splash of water from the fountain to the grass and I was enjoying a wise and hysterical book on writing by Anne Lamott.
When it was time to go in, I called out “Breezy” to make sure she knew where I was going. But really, I think I called her because I needed a dose of my pooch’s love. And she delivered.
As the following unraveled, I was reminded of why I love this member of the family so much.
While entering the house, Bree was quick to follow, but then she paused just outside the threshold. She turned, craning her neck around to glance behind at the beautiful outdoors. Then she glanced longingly back at me, as if to say, “What? You want me to come in on a day like this? You’ve got to be kidding me! But you feed me and I love you more than this day; and if you want me to come in, I will.”
Yes, I am a dog whisperer. She said all this in one adorable glance.
Then uncaringly, like many distracted pet owners, I walked inside to go about my business. But I wasn’t completely uncaring because I left the door open for her to choose to stay outside or come in.
She came in, dragging her paws and with head held low. I heard her quiet, complaint-filled mumbling behind me, “Fine. I’ll come into the cold cave you call home because you’re too cheap to turn on the heater. I’ll come in; but I don’t have to like it. Grumble, grumble.”
So I turned around and got down to her level, kind of like I do with my 4-year-old human (many similar training techniques, but that’s another story). And I began to stroke her and speak gently into her big dark eyes, like she understood every wise word issuing from my lips. “Breezy, You don’t have to stay by my side. You can go out and enjoy the perfect day.”
And surprisingly (I mean, I knew she understood my every word all along), I kid you not, she turned around and leaped back toward the door. But she also stopped midway and turned around as if to say, “Are you sure now? Because once I step across to the other side, I’m outta here!”
I responded aloud, “Yes, go ahead. I’ll be right here with the door open, waiting for your return, and writing about how much I love sunny South Pas and you.”