Still dang busy...

I work hard - Not much choice otherwise, in this day and age, I suppose, but still - The hours are long, and sometimes intensely frustrating. Work can be intensely fiddly. Sometimes with damn good reason, but just as often simply because someone is too lazy or too ego-bound to do things differently. I get tired of it.

It's such a relief to come home to uncomplicated demands. The dogs don't require conflicting walk specifications, nor do they much care about order of operations in assembling their meal (though order of service *is* enforced. :-p ), nor do they care about smoothing inconsequential details. That's not to say that they don't have their quirks, nor that you can get away with ignoring anything below the surface - It's just that they don't lie, they don't fiddle, and they don't give a damn about the stupid shit. Get the big details right, pay attention to the emotional climate, and all is well.

Suka doesn't care if we walk the neighborhood to the right or to the left. Dakota doesn't care if I use the black lead or the red one, the nylon, or the cotton, or the leather. If the wet stuff in their meal is on top of the dry stuff, well that's every bit as good as the dry stuff atop the wet.

Do I sound fried, burned out, weary? Well, that's because I am. But the Girls bring me out of it - When I've had enough and too much of family, other people, or work, I can count on them to be simple, happy, loving companions.

It means a lot.