My Anxiety with Tardiness

 I hate to be late.  I am forgiving to others who are late. That is unless their tardiness delays my being at a particular place at a particular time for a particular reason - such as attending a movie, meeting someone for dinner (ie being there on time for a reservation) or arriving at someone's house when there is a set time. (A caveat being when the invitation is for "some time around ...") The former situations or tardiness on my part, honestly, makes me anxious.

Personally I feel it is rude to make someone wait. In my opinion, even calling ahead to say one is late (although it advises the other party of the delay) is still an inconvenience for those who are waiting. We all have friends we know are habitually tardy. In those cases we often take that into consideration. "Well we will plan to eat at noon, but since we all know Harry is going to be 30 minutes late, it will be 12:30 at the earliest before lunch will be served."

I am an early riser, a morning person, and have been most of my life. I usually get up around 5:30 in the morning and by 8:30 in the evening, unless I have other plans, I am in bed reading. (In full disclosure I actually do not fall asleep until 9:30 or 10.)

As many of you know, I have 2 pups  - Marshall , a full size Yorkie, and Ellie, a 'Norwhat' (A Norwich terrier, who thanks to DNA we learned is actually a Norwich/ Cairn mix).  Honest to God, Ellie's little internal Mickey Mouse watch alarms around 5:25 every morning, usually before my alarm clock rings. If I am not already awake, she makes it very clear that I should be. With her consistent whining and/or standing next to my face staring at me, I am awake, whether I want to be or not. However at that time on these cold mornings ,when the temperatures are in the 30's at best, the idea of crawling out of bed to bundle up and go for our morning constitutional, is anything but inviting. Tell me who really enjoys walking their dogs when one can see their breath in the cold dark air and the frost on the ground is 'crunchy'. 

On these mornings or those when I am not working, I am not given to enthusiastically jump out of bed and hurry outside. Often I find myself negotiating with Ellie. "We really do not need to get up this early, please go back to sleep." I will cover my face (to avoid the guilt her pleading visage evokes). I will offer enticements. "Just 30 minutes more and you'll get a treat if you go back to sleep." This may get me 15 additional minutes at best, but rarely much more. With her tough Scottish breeding, cold mornings are not an issue. 

Perhaps our Harrys should have such a companion, with an internal watch and the persistence of a terrier, to keep them on time. Just saying.

Joggers and Headlights, Oh My!

 When friends of mine talk about  "over sleeping" and missing their morning alarm, I cannot relate. It is hard for me to oversleep due to my two little alarm clocks - Ellie and Marshall. Every morning at 5:30, it is as if their little Mickey Mouse watches go off. If I am not awake Ellie will start nudging me, as much to solicit me to scratch her face as to wake me up. Marshall, on the other hand, will climb on top of me and gently pat me with is left paw, as to say "Let's go!"

When I can sleep late, it becomes a negotiation. I will scratch Ellie's face hoping to mollify her enough that she will settle down and nap. If I ignore Marshall long enough, he will crawl under the covers in defeat and go back to sleep. But the stand off is short lived and shortly we are up and about. Time to get dressed and go out for our morning constitutional. 

With the days being shorter and dawn coming a bit later every morning, it is now totally dark when we leave the house. There are 2 choices for our walk - the street that runs in front of my place and the street (more of an alley) that runs behind it. Each carries its own perils, depending on the time of day. Getting out at 6 am or later, means that others will also be out with their pooches. The lady with her large Sheppard mix and the distinguished looking old man with his well behaved Jack Russell will be out and about on their morning walk out back. Any time around 7:00 - 7:15, the older gentlemen 2 doors down will have his Ellie, an older Australian Sheppard mix, out front.

Usually, we are out earlier so we do not have to negotiate these obstacles. Don't get me wrong, I am social and these neighbors are very friendly. Unfortunately, Marshall, with his Napoleon complex will take offense that these other canines are also taking their constitutional. With all of his 10 inch height (he is a full size Yorkshire Terrier, and no, that is not an oxymoron) he will channel his inner canine, bark, and lunge on his leash as if he is going to take these interlopers down. Any person familiar with canine behavior will see his wildly wagging tail and understand his ruse. 

So each morning I must make a strategic decision - the front or the back. Lately, we have been out early enough to take a nice stroll down the front sidewalk free of any canine encounters. However, just when I think there will be peace in the morning, there is a new threat - early morning joggers. Being pitch black dark they are wearing head lamps as they come down the street.

So the game is afoot. If I see them first, which can be difficult given they usually are coming up behind me, I can start telling Marshall, "It's OK, it's OK Marshall keep calm." If neither of us are surprised by a jogger, this will usually pacify him. However, this all becomes an issue when we are both surprised. I doubt any of the runners feel threatened, given Marshall's small stature. Often I doubt they can even see his small self as he barks loudly in the dark. I, on the other hand, am mortified that I have such an unruly pet. 

Then this can become a game of cat and mouse. If I see the jogger's light bouncing in the dark, I can manage to be standing beside one of the parked cars, shielding the jogger from Marshall's eyesight. Another strategy is to turn into a neighbor's yard, making my way to the back, all the while steering Marshall's attention away from the jogger. 

All in all, what should be a relaxing way to start my morning can be very stressful. Often my next door  neighbor leaves for work during this bewitching hour. If his departure coincides with our return, Marshall will also bark loudly at him. However, he understands dogs. Instead of trying to avoid Marshall, he will approach my unruly terrier, stoop down and offer his hand. Marshall will immediately stop his barking, wag his tail, and happily accept his kind words and scratches on his head. We exchange pleasantries, I apologize for Marshall's behavior, and we go on our ways.

In contrast to Marshall's deportment, Ellie is always friendly, usually quiet with her little stubby tail wagging as hard as it can. I doubt she cares about Marshall's antics. She is simply trying to solicit attention, as if to say, "Look at me, please pet me, just ignore him". Her unruly black hair (keep in mind Toto was also a Cairn Terrier) makes her look like a street urchin as opposed to Marshall's flowing grey and tan coat. With all his antics, Ellie feels neglected. It is as if she is saying, "Don't mind him, he is just full of 'sound and fury, signifying nothing'."

Walking the Dog - Not Just a Yoyo Trick

Let me make one thing straight - a fenced in back yard is highly under rated. For years as a dog owner, "putting the dogs out" entailed opening the back door and letting them run past you. The only hardships were when it was a cold morning and you felt the freezing weather on your face when you opened the door or the frustration of them scrambling around your feet to see who was going first.

Those were the salad days, the carefree times when I was innocent - the years I never appreciated. When I moved to Charleston and brought Ellie with me, we had a new reality. The first morning at 5:30 I awoke to a furry face looking at me with this, "Well, are you taking me out or what?" look. 

It was cold outside, I was still sleepy, and "going out" was now a participation sport. So I got up, pulled on some decent warm clothes, put her leash on her and we headed out the door for her morning constitutional. Now, I will say, Ellie is very good on a leash - when it suits her.  However, like a determined Sumo wrestler, she can just stop, dig her little feet in and no one is going anywhere. That is until she decides she wants to. 

Thankfully, I live in a wonderful neighborhood. I do not need a bigger dog with a bigger chip on her shoulder than 10 inch tall Ellie who, bless her heart, never got the memo that she falls in the "little dog" class. She definitely has the Napoleon Complex.

Marshall, on the other hand, can be schizophrenic. One moment he is this sweet little thing making his way down the street tail wagging and then, at a moment's notice, my fiercest defender. This is the point when I think he is on a suicide mission. It doesn't matter how loud he barks, how menacing his growl is, or how hard he pulls on his leash, the pair of Golden Doodles around the block are not going to be phased, the black lab 2 doors down is not going to really care, and, should he engage the elegant Weimaraner down the street, he is going to lose every time. 

Even the squirrels and chipmunks know the score. They know the dogs are on a leash that is only so long. It is not unusual for a squirrel to dash across our path just a few feet ahead. There is one daring chipmunk, who will sit on the grass calmly eating his nut in full view of us as we walk by. Ellie's lunges and Marshall's antics do not phase the little thing at all. 

There is the other "Ellie", a lovely older Australian Sheep Dog, who is faithfully walked every morning at 7 and again every evening around 6. If we are venturing out at that time, we go out the back door and walk down the private road that runs behind us. Best let Ellie, the sheep dog, enjoy her constitutional in peace.

We have established our route. We know the characters on the block.  We know the house that has the Brittany Spaniel that sits by the front window and move quickly by that door, hoping to go by unnoticed. There is the regular schedule of the little old man who wears a funny hat and his well behaved Jack Russell - best avoid them less I be humiliated by my pups' antics.

Don't get me wrong, friendly folks are always stopping and noting Ellie and Marshall's perky little terrier personalities. Neighbors are quick to acknowledge them. One kind lady even has treats ready to share with them should she be on her deck when we pass. 

However, the one variable in the calculus that I have no control over is the yellow Cheshire cat who often lies in wait. I have no clue as to when or where she will make her presence known. So each time I open the door and we venture out, the games are afoot and hopefully our timing will be favorable. 

Wily Chipmunks, Lurking Cats, and Innocent Joggers

 When walking Ellie and Marshall, I have learned there are several I need to be on the look out for several obstacles. When we are out before dawn around 5:30, we have encounters with runners wearing headlamps. If I happen to see them first, I can prepare Marshall so he will not take the oncoming runner as an approaching enemy. 

I have learned the walking schedules of the local dog owners. For instance, the older gentleman with his well behaved Jack Russell take their constitution at 7 am each morning. The other Ellie (an older Australian Shepard) is walked around 7:15 each morning, Several doors down a young man takes his 2, rather large, Labradoodles to work with him each morning. It is best not to be around his back door between 6:45 and 7:00, just saying. 

It is not that Marshall is vicious, quite the opposite, he is a very loving dog. He just has a 'funny' way of showing it. When confronted by a stranger, especially a male, he will start barking and lunging on his lead. Now remember he is a full size Yorkshire Terrier. A true dog lover will see his rapidly wagging tail and realize he is not out to get anyone.

Ellie on the other hand thinks everyone wants to be her friend and she never wants to deny them that opportunity. 

Over the past year or so, I have managed - most of the time - to avoid ugly confrontations. Of course the local squirrels and chipmunks have no schedule. They dart about, climbing trees and scurrying across the grass at their whim. I honestly think the chipmunks are very smart (and brave). If they notice us approaching, instead of running for cover, they will sit up and take notice. They seem to understand the lengths of the pups' leads and stay just 12 or 18 inches away. Needless to say this drives the pups mad.

But, we now have a new nemesis, a yellow house cat belonging to one of my neighbors. The feline stays outside most of the time. He lurks, much like the Cheshire Cat. He will sit quietly under a bush until we approach. At that time, he will make his way, very slowly and methodically, out into the open. At this point, he will sit and start methodically washing his face, knowing full well that the pups are restrained. 

By this time the pups, especially Marshall, are apoplectic.Yet the cat just sits there, seemingly unbothered.  I just try to round them up and drag them home. It is not a pretty sight. If I look back over my shoulder, I see cat slowly make his way back under the bush. I assume to lie in wait for the next unassuming dog and their owner.  

Any day I expect to round the corner and see an agitated rabbit scurrying about muttering that he is late. Meanwhile, all I am doing is trying to walk my dogs while avoiding any snags, wily chipmunks, lurking cats, or trips through the looking glass.