Grace
has never liked when I left for work. She disappeared when the time came for
her to get in her crate, and I’d find her curled up on her bed in my room. She
pretended to be asleep, her eyelids drooping. She wanted me to think that she’d
be good and she’d sleep on her bed all day.
But I
know better than to trust my dog. She’s got a lot of puppy left brewing inside
her, and she can’t help herself sometimes. If I left her home alone and out of
her crate one day, I’d come home to a layer of stuffing-snow on the carpet and shredded
cloth everywhere.
Eventually
she’ll be mature enough to wander the house while I’m out. Eventually being the
keyword there.
My new,
albeit temporary, job means I’m out of the house forty hours a week. Eight
hours a day could be considered a long time for Grace to be cooped up inside
her crate. Mom thinks that at least, and she suggested we increase the days she
goes to doggie daycare during the week.
So Grace
heads off to East Bridgewater twice a week instead of once.
Grace
approaches doggie daycare the same way she approaches her crate at bedtime:
pulling, whining, and insisting until she gets exactly what she wants. The
moment the car turns down the long, single lane driveway with trees encroaching
on both sides, Grace starts bouncing in the back of the car. She pings off the sides
of the car and whines like a mad woman.
She
would leap from the back of the car the moment I opened the hatch, leaving me
to scramble for the pink leash trailing behind her. I didn’t much like that,
and we’ve come to an agreement that she’s not to hop off the tailgate until I
tell her she can.
Because
of my schedule, Dad drops her off in the mornings and Mom picks her up. In the
ten hours between, Grace plays and runs and wrestles with the other dogs. She
wears herself out; back at home, she settles herself into her bed and only
wakes up long enough for a bathroom run before bedtime.
I love
my sleepy puppy. I love how she smells of the indoor room at daycare: the smell
of disinfectant mixed with a faint stale scent. I love how she looks at me from
behind her half-closed while curled in her bed. I love the sound of her snoring
from across the room.
This
full time job in Plymouth probably won’t last much longer, and I occasionally
need to keep whispering Ohio to
myself as a reminder of long term goals just to get through the day. I may not
be enjoying the uncertainty of a temporary job or of exactly what will happen
in the coming months. But coming home to a sleepy puppy and knowing that she
had the time of her life today makes my day a little bit better.
