Sophie and her dog sitter.
When I
went to the hospital, I worried about Sophie being alone and lonely in the
cottage, but I need not have fretted. When Jamie or Megan were not with me,
they were in the cottage, working remotely, sleeping, or playing with Sophie.
She got more attention than she usually does when I’m here with her. When they
decided it was time to head for their homes, Jacob announced he would “dog ////sit”
Soph.
He
spent the nights with her—I think he liked my sleep numbers bed—and did his
remote schoolwork at my desk during the day. I was pleased that he was
comfortable enough in my space to want to do that. Turns out he was more than
comfortable. When I came home, he announced he would have to boot me out of my
desk. He likes sitting and looking out the window while he works, though today the
cold, damp air comes through these frail old glass panes and makes my window on
the world too cold for comfort. I have spent much of the day curled in my bed
for warmth, but I figure that’s okay. I’m gathering my strength.
The
kids kept assuring me Sophie was content but missed me, went around looking for
me. Still, I didn’t quite get butt-wriggling, jumping-around happiness when she
saw me. She was cautious, approaching slowly, as though uncertain who I was. I
wondered if with a dog’s strong sense of smell she picked up the hospital odor
about me, even though I’d completely changed clothes. Then too maybe she
thought I’d deserted her, and it took her a bit of time to forgive me.
Now,
twenty-four hours later, she comes up to put her head on my knee and ask for
love. She has been good and quiet all day, letting me mostly rest. Right now it
is dull but not rainy, and she is happily standing outside at the back door of
the main house, convinced apparently that something more interesting is going on
inside than in the cottage. She’s always anxious to get into the big house, but
if I’m in there and ask, “Do you want to go home?” she makes a beeline for the
cottage.
Dogs
are often smarter than people. I think Sophie is telling me it will take a day
or two to get back into our routine, and I shouldn’t rush it. I’m listening.
And, meantime, I’m grateful to Jacob for taking good care of her. In an hour or
so, we’ll all gather for supper in the cottage, and she will once again make herself
the center of attention by begging for her food and treats, wanting to go in
and then out, going from person to person for love. It’s a dog’s life, and she’s
got it whipped. I’m learning from her.
