As we are days from our ninth wedding anniversary and acknowledgment of our dog Zoe’s eighth year or beginning of her ninth year of life, this hopefully brief period will pass and we’ll go back to normal, wherever we might be.
As my husband contemplates contract work, often everything is done by phone and email, and there is no face-to-face interview. So he sets up camp in the living room with laptop and charger, cell phone and charger, and headphones and talks to recruiters all day.
While I do all the proofreading, cost of living analysis and housing research, I do have to get out and make sure we all have enough to eat et al.
Yesterday he told Zoe, the dog “I’m fun, but she’s important.” He’s a bit put out that when I leave the house she goes upstairs and waits at the window in the guest room until I return, then greets me at the door.
Might that be because I feed her twice a day? Walk her at least three times a day? I don’t know, but when push comes to shove, she knows I’ll be there. She came downstairs before six and asked to get up on the sofa. It’s still dark out and it snowed (imagine that) and hasn’t been plowed yet so if she can wait until 7:15 it will be lighter and she’ll get less salt in her paws. She’s patiently waiting while the fun one sleeps. Cheers, Dee
Cooking with Dee 