It’s About Time

It’s my turn! Patience is not a recognized virtue in the dog world. We live in the moment. What happened yesterday, or will happen tomorrow, is a vague notion. Why it took so long for my humans to give me a shot at this, I have no idea. Wouldn’t it be obvious I have a word or two to share? Heck, even other bloggers have solicited my opinions, why not my own humans? But, here it is, my chance, my DOG BLOG:

I won’t formally introduce myself, but just dive right in. But, where to start?

Thinking.

Thinking.

Oops, sleeping!

Really, thinking. Like I said, what happened yesterday can be so difficult for us dogs…

Now I’m getting worried. . . I know I have something. . .

GOT IT! How about landing in Florida and getting our family whole again? That was a big step in our long journey. We had been on the road for over 6 months, and I knew “Florida” was in the picture, but for me, that did not translate to seeing my kid again. Boy, has she really grown up! Her face has changed. Her lips are glossy, her eyebrows defined, and her eyelashes long and dark.

She tells me not to lick her face – but I think her old face is under there, if she’d only give me more time with it. She won’t have it. Says my breath is stinky – whatever!? I know stinky breath, I woke up with her many mornings, and never complained.

So, we made it to Florida. There’s no trampoline in the backyard, which is probably a good thing, since there is no way I could jump up there any more. I’d hate for her to see that. But, there were days when I would easily jump along side her. I miss that.

I’ve grown a lot too, I suppose. Like, I’ve learned how to relax while being in the car. Don’t tell me you can’t teach an old dog new tricks! This is a big thing, considering how much we’ve been on the road. Until recently, my whole life I’ve been a nervous passenger, cars go so fast! But, in Thor (that’s our car – he’s the one that convinced me to take a “chill pill”), I learned that being on a ride can be relaxing. Just breathe.

The smells in Florida are different, and the rules are different too. For example, I can’t just charge in the water like before. They stop me, say something about “neighbor”, or “Darth Vader”. . .tell me to get a cool down in wet grass instead.

Hey, that works for me too, it’s just that swimming is so good on these ole bones.

And the smells!? They are heavy and wet; not Oregon wet, which are crisp and fresh. Here they’re mushy, earthy, stagnant – like the compost in our old backyard. The bugs, on the other paw, are something else. Countless, relentless, pesky – but, generally speaking, they don’t bug me – I’m just too old to care, unless they’re in my eyes, I hate that.

Overall, I’m liking Florida. Mostly because my kid is here, but there’s lots of exploring opportunities, and the folks take me for short getaways. Places where I get to really swim. Places with familiar wet smells: salty, fishy and briny.

You see, these trips give my kid “space”. I know I wouldn’t like that one bit. Space!? My “space” will always be no space. Squished between my family – all three noses accounted for.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily represent those of Passports and Postcards.