Levi, Scotland and Touching Notes

Some mornings the only thing that makes me want to get out of bed is the dog. Scratch that. I still don’t WANT to get up but you can’t ignore a pushy schnauzer when he’s gotta pee. He bounces against the mattress until I open my eyes and then he stares at me with the sweetest angelic, canine smile on earth. I swing my legs over the side of the bed where I’ll sit for a few minutes to gain my equilibrium. At that point Levi lets me know the peeing order---me before him or him before me. 

With those basics out of the way we begin our morning routine. Coffee goes on and I sit at my keyboard that’s inside a large computer wardrobe in the kitchen. When the coffee spits out of my Keurig, Italian sweet cream goes in it and a few bits of Milk-Bone Trail Mix goes to the dog. But not before he proves he can smell which hand I’m hiding them in. He can’t lose. I have one in each hand but he’s got his favorite flavors and for round one of the game, he’ll pick the hand with the sweet potato over the beef every time but he’ll pick the rolled oats milk bone---his favorite---over both of them in our game of Which Hand.

Over the next hour Levi can be a pain in the butt. As I read around the internet or work on writing my next blog post he’ll be in and out of the house a half dozen times. If he barks while outside, I’ll tap on the window that’s next to my computer chair to get his attention, then hold my finger up to my lips. If that doesn’t silence him, I’ll make him come inside. Usually that happens when someone is walking a dog up the cul-de-sac. When he’s called in he’ll make a bee-line to the library where he can continue to follow the dog and its walker until they are out of sight. At the point Levi wants to go back outside again. He turned eight in January and this has been our routine his entire life which explains why I don’t like morning appointments. Getting dressed and walking the dog in the morning before hurrying off somewhere just isn’t my idea of the good life on Lazy Old Lady Street.

Friday, however, was an exception. I had signed up to go a travelogue about Scotland that was originally scheduled for 3:00 PM Monday but it was the victim of a snow cancellation and it got rescheduled for 10:00 AM on Friday. If I didn’t go it would have been my 7^th day of isolation meaning my sanity was in serious jeopardy. Around the 4th day without human contact I feel like I'm drifting in a dinghy in the middle of the ocean and by day six I'm playing Tom Hanks' part  in Cast Away. Levi is my sanity savior and without him in my life I'd probably weigh fifty pounds more if I didn’t have to search the house for him a million times a day. He’s got nine places he likes to be depending on sun patterns, wildlife in the yard, dog walkers and if he’s cold or annoyed or he thinks I need to be watched more carefully for reasons known only to him. 

The travelogue was put on by a travel club I belong to that has eight-nine programs sporadically throughout the year and this time the speaker was a guy from Switzerland who works for Globus, the oldest escort tour company in Europe. The guy was funny enough to be a stand-up comedian and he kept us laughing all the way through laying out a ten day itinerary to see castles, mountains, moors, festivals, pubs, villages and cities. The slides and videos were breathtaking, the classic dancers and music of Scotland lively---both making me wish I was as adventuresome as I am in my imagination. Every time I drive home from one of these events I tell myself I could actually go on one of these tours. I've got the money and the time. But what would I do about Levi? If I thought I could get him to understand Face Time or Skype I know his kennel owner would help him do it. Then all I’d have to do is practice getting drunk so I’d know how to do it on the long flights---that could help me overcome my fear of flying.

When I got home I found a surprise in my mailbox, a note card from a cousin who is a selfless do-good type with a huge heart. She makes me want to be a better person whenever I hear about her many charitable activities. The note read: “Instead of giving up something for lent I feel led to send notes to those who have touched my life. Today God put your name on my heart. I am so glad we have been able to re-connect through Facebook as I have fond memories of time spent with you growing up. Your mom was a stickler for rules, but a fun lady who always made me and the others feel special. Your dad was a gem. I loved his smile and he was so much fun. You know my dad drank and sometimes the good times get lost in the bad times. It is sad that so many in our family are gone, even our cousins....” I don’t honor lent but if I did I’d copy my cousin’s thoughtful idea. Her words made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, knowing that others have fond memories of my parents. I won the parent lotto and the older you get, the easier it is to appreciate things like that. ©