Home Alone

At the door I was met by doggy enthusiasm, not times two as is usual at my home, but times twelve. Yes, the puppies escaped the utility room. Someone knocked down the first door, then a wiggly puppy battering ram shoved aside the second door. There were puppies everywhere, most particularly underfoot. I helped the big dogs to a few minutes freedom outdoors, but knew they wouldn’t stay long in single-digit weather. And I turned around to survey my little world.

There was a puppy chewing on the knob of the bottom drawer in the kitchen. There were three puppies in the laundry basket. There were puppies hanging on my shoelaces. There were puppies chowing down on Max and Toby’s senior special, not what they are supposed to eat, but one day won’t hurt them. I quickly removed the tippy water bowl that had somehow not yet flooded the kitchen.

There were little puppy poops almost everywhere except (thank you!) on the living room rug. Inspired, I went to the bathroom. There was a puppy on the scale. I used up the last of the toilet paper and tossed the cardboard core to a puppy. Delighted, she sped away, ears flying, to show off her prize.

Back in the living room, there are—as always—several puppies on the lower shelf of the coffee table. The whole idea of multi-level living appeals to puppies, and I cringe to think how the big dogs will cope if they ever learn to climb stairs. There are at least three puppies chewing on outlets and electrical cords. Did I mention that the public spaces in my house, as distinct from the puppy spaces, are not puppy proofed? “No, Piggie!” I squeal. “Stop that, Daisy! Curly Jack! Get away!”

In my study, there are puppies on the NordicTrak. I turn to a loud crash as two or three puppies have engineered a see-saw with one of its skis. In the box of printer paper, more puppies. It’s like an exercise in quantum physics. No sooner do you observe a puppy in one spot than you turn and it is somewhere else. How can there be only nine of them?

People gush at me, “How cute! You won’t be able to let them go.” Oh no. I will be able to let them go. But for a few weeks, they are fun.

I accepted my fate, escorted the big dogs each to a sofa refuge, blew off my evening meeting, poured a glass of wine and settled down to watch. And they all fell asleep. They slept for hours, rousing only for a few minutes at the time I thought it was time to go to sleep. I can only conclude that they tired themselves out exploring the wonder of being home alone.

Did I mention that they almost set the house on fire? I found the heat lamp with 100-watt bulb face down on the utility room floor, the vinyl flooring scorched and curled away to expose charred subflooring.

Over at Susan’s Advent calendar http://www.q-creative.com/christmas/flash_calendar/ there are tater tots with their eyes all aglow. The woman is a wee bit obsessed. Often I think that those of us who have daily visits with our inner lunacy ultimately have an easier time with the outer world. She also offers this thought:

One kind thought can warm three winter months. –Chinese proverb

I like that.