Dog days.

I like Sundays. If I had to choose my favorite day of the week, it would most definitely be Sunday. Religious people go to church (around here that’s the majority of the population) and that leaves the world quiet and unpopulated for us sinners—at least until noon or so.

For better or worse, I usually have the weekend completely mapped out. Chores. Bike rides. Car tinkering. Work, sometimes. But yesterday came along, the sun came out and I didn’t have a plan. So Woody and I went for a long walk. Then we played fetch in the backyard. Then we practiced some of his training exercises. After that, we played fetch some more and went to his dog training class. Once we were back home, we had a beer on the porch together (I had a beer…Woody doesn’t drink) and played another round of fetch until he came inside and went to bed. It wasn’t until Cristi finally came home from work and asked, “What did you do today?” that it occurred to me that I’d spent the entire day with the dog.

Now that Monday is here and a busy week is about to unfold, I hope Woody has some recollection of yesterday. I sincerely hope all that running and playing and love lasts until at least Wednesday.

What am I doing next Sunday? Funny you should ask, I think I have plans.


I can’t imagine life without this rotten little creature.


One thought on “Dog days.

  1. Mike says:

    Funny. I do the same thing with Brandy almost every weekend as well. I look back and say, “what the hell happened”, but then I realize I spent quality time with someone who doesn’t judge, watches over me, and makes me laugh, a lot. Time well spent.

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