The Heirs basically fall out of bed and start their day. But there are six dogs for Dirtman and I to air and feed in two shifts, all done in minimal space and on no caffeine.
This is a well-orchestrated dance we’ve worked out over a period of weeks, tweeking it here and there, until finally it’s as smooth a symphony as can be expected when the
So it goes like this: Dirtman falls out of bed and throws on pants, shirt and shoes while I hit the bathroom and Topper jumps around like a maniac because, while five seconds ago he was sleeping peacefully, he has to go and he has to go NOW, Gaspode paces and Zsa Zsa stares at the closed bathroom door. Then Dirtman puts Topper on a tie out chain and walks Gaspode on a leash while I let Zsa Zsa out and get the dog bowls filled. I lay out Topper, ‘Pode and Zsa Zsa’s bowls and Dirtman lets those three back in to eat. Fortunately, they have learned whose bowl is where and we no long have to fling dogs about the kitchen to their respective bowls.
There is about a minute of peace during which I clear the dish drainer of any dishes and retrieve used dog bowls as they become available. Then Dirtman heads to the basement to let out Salt and
Dirtman lets the last three dogs in to eat and I act as a sort of weir to divert
Then – and only then – we make coffee.
So I’m sorry if I was a little sarcastic when, in the midst of all this activity, Heir 1, who had to be at work at 7 a.m., said, “The coffee isn’t done yet?”
“Wait a minute,” I said and proceeded to look out the window at the front yard. “Uhhhh…Nope, I don’t see it.”
“See what?” Heir 1 asked.
“The sign that says ‘Welcome to Holiday Inn’.”
I got the look and he walked out in disgust.
“I love you!” I called after him.
“Have a good day!” I called out the kitchen window.
“Follow your dreams!”
I think I saw him smile when he got behind the wheel. Then, again, it may have been a grimace.