Oops

It was gorgeous yesterday.  And it is today.  

Yesterday after breakfast, the turkey chewie thing, and toast, Murph wanted to be outside.  I could hear her out there, sniffing, cruising her turf.

Then she followed the sun, almost like a cat.  By the time I had to leave for a meeting, she was content, laying in the sun, stretched so her hind legs were getting maximum solar therapy.

I thought about it, whether I should leave her out or help her inside.  But she looked so happy.  Murphy, do you want to go inside?  She didn't even lift her head.  I used to leave her outside all the time.  Back then she came and went inside as she pleased.

I left, and came home an hour or so later.  She came to the back gate, along with Sage (don't tell the burglars, I left the back door open).  Checking phone messages, a neighbor had called, complaining about Murphy barking.  Oops.

First I went to her house, to apologize.  No one came to the door, so I left a card, so sorry, my old girl gets confused and barks.  That's it, Murph, no staying outside when I have to leave.  Sorry.  Times really have changed.

The neighbor did the right thing, leaving me a phone message today thanking me for my card.  She expressed concern over Murph.  It's nice to have people around who do it right.

It is gorgeous.  Early spring.  As I write this, Sage is out in back chewing her morning chew stick (she reminds me of a senior partner I worked for who had to have his morning cigar and his late afternoon cigar...way before the days of smoking restrictions in the work place.  Matter of fact, Sage does have that curmudgeon thing about her, but that is a whole other blog!).  Murphy is close by.  It is almost hackneyed to say seasons change, and in fact, in the Northwest, they really just merge, like dripping water colors, into each other.  But the changes in Murph are noticeable, distinct, and often, for me, sad.  I remind myself, though, that each change brings something else to my heart.  Her inability to climb stairs allows me to be physically closer to her, to love her in ways I didn't when she was agile.  We are sharing our wonder at the sun, the flowers, the migratory birds outside my study window.  Mid-way up the stairs we stop, take a breath, and I hold her, telling her it is spring, and the sun feels good to both of us.

Je t'aime Murphy.  Murphy, you make each day better.

Murphy's day