I caught myself wishing something for Sophie tonight. Well, maybe I was wishing it for me, but I think it was for her. I was wishing we had a revolving door for her. Yup, I'm pretty sure I've let her out about 10 times in the last 2 hours. She wants to go out (and in) because she's been home all day, about as much as I want to sit because I've been at work all day. Naturally she gets out, realizes how blasted cold and windy it is and decides to come back in. That is where the revolving door would be a blessing. Or a doggy door, but I think she'd be adorable trotting around a revolving one.
Now, ever since she arrived she's been revolving and evolving. Over the year I've wished for many things for her. For her to pee (that was days 1 & 2 with her). For her to pee outside without being startled by any little noise or gust of wind. For her to eat treats, to be touched, to take food from the Scarey Man. I'm still wishing she wouldn't take giant craps when we go anywhere in public. Hope springs as eternally as her nervous mega-poo's do. I've wished she'd learn the comforts of laying on the bed in the sun - and she has! Hank wishes she would quit barking at him until he gives up the toy he was playing with. And, Mick wishes she would just be a slug like he is. Not bloody likely that.
It seems our lives are filled with wishes. Sometimes we say we wish our life away, or to be careful what we wish for. I say I wish I could give the dogs 1/2 the love they give me. And if I have to open the door to let the love in or out, then so be it.
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