The Wait

One day last week...

Upon driving home after a late night at school, I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. Just breathe, I think to myself. A few moments of quiet bliss before opening my car door and heading in to my house. Bags and purse loaded on one arm, I turn the key in the lock, listening for the signs of life beyond this door. I know they are waiting to see me. I know they are excited that I am FINALLY home. In their eyes, I have been gone for decades.

"Hello darlings! How's Mommy's babies doing? Did you have a good day?"

Naturally, their eyes tell me more than they could ever say. They are just glad I'm home. They have missed me, as I have missed them. Unloading my arms on to the bench in my kitchen, I hang my keys on the appropriate hook and walk toward the couch. I don't even sit on the couch. I slump on to the floor after removing my tired shoes. Leaning against my light beige, rather uncomfortable couch, I wonder when I could afford to get a better one. I grab the remote, turn the tube on and prepare to zone. This is one way I detox from my day - rid myself of all the frustrations, anxieties, and disappointments which have filled my heart, mind and soul. I am subconsciously reflecting - my mind still whizzing by at well over 100 miles per hour, but I am working to calm the need for speed. I'm not even watching the show. I am simply using it as a distraction.

In the distant background of my mind I imagine squeaking. This incessant noise becomes closer to the reality part of my brain, finally registering that Tucker would much rather that I play with him than watch TV. He has found his most precious and favorite toy - the yellow star (number 2) that has already been stretched beyond star-shape as well as the bare spots now forming in distinct patterns. Continuing to ignore the squeaking, my eyes focus on the present show, even as the corner of my vision catches Tucker's antics.

Not happy about being ignored, Tucker has decided he needs to be more playful. Cute and adorable always get Mom to notice. Picking up his toy he flops on his back and peers in my direction as he wiggles back and forth. Still completely absorbed in my process of detoxing reflection, I continue to be oblivious to his efforts. Flipping back to his stomach, he sits up, utterly disturbed by my lack of attention. Even as my mind races, I know what he is doing. I know him so well. He's sitting there pondering his next move and determining how far he's going to have to go to get Mommy to pay attention. He's craving my attention and even though I am subliminally aware of this, I just have to finish my process. I need this time - it's imperative to my evening going well.

Standing up, Tucker grabs his toy and "fake plays" as if we are having our own tug-of-war when in fact he is playing with an invisible foe. Toy captured, he prances around preening at his bravery and cleverness in defeating his imaginary foe. To no avail, I continue to lean against the couch, arms folded across my chest, legs crossed at the ankles. I am simply too absorbed in my own mind.

Clearly agitated now, Tucker picks the star up again, but this time gently lays it on my lap. He sits on the slightly shaggy carpet and waits, as if the weight of the star itself would jog my memory. With absolutely no reaction from me, Tucker tilts his adorable little head sideways and stares at me for a few seconds. Then he looks at the star laying lonely and unused in my lap. Then he looks off into the distance of the house. Then his eyes return to me. Then he peers toward the TV and finally back to me. He's figured it out - his ultimate move.

Leaving the toy laying in my lap, Tucker stands up stoically, steps quietly forward and carefully places his front feet on my thighs as he maneuvers his head and face in line with my sight of the TV. He tilts his little black, white and tan head slightly as he looks me in the eyes. That's my smart little man. He's figured out the way to Mom is through her eyes and currently they were being dominated by some crazy box on a stand that means absolutely nothing to him.

Tucker's quiet eyes peering into mine undid my reverie. The strength of love coming through was unmistakable. As if he was saying, Mom, I know you've had a rough day, but I'm here and I need you. I love you and want you to play with me. So please come back to me.

Fast forward to last night...

Last night, I got home super late (like 8:30) and knew before I left my car what I needed to do when I entered this home. I had an adorably handsome and energetic Tucker waiting for his Mom to get home so they could just play. I dropped my baggage on the bench and welcomed the jumping, whimpering welcome-homes from my babies. Stroking their heads and lavishing them with kisses and how-are-yous I smiled big. They may only be dogs, but they are my babies. No matter what people may say about dogs in general, my two dogs are special. They know me almost as well as I know them. They expect me like a child does. They need me like a child does. They love me like a child does.

Tucker will jump on to the couch and carefully climb into my lap so I can hold him when I'm feeling blue. He will peer into my eyes and without saying anything let me know how much he loves me. A quick lap of the tongue, he snuggles closer intent on enjoying the fact that he is Mommy's main man. Maleena, my little girl, wants nothing more than to cuddle with me. If I even approach the couch, she's instantly there waiting for me to make it official. She'll curl up next to my side and sigh so deeply people have mistaken her sounds for mine.

Last night I changed and immediately grabbed the star. Tucker and I enjoyed a bout of play as he raced around the living room floor chasing Mom's hand holding his favorite toy. When I stopped play to work on some science work, they curled up next to me. One snuggled against my right leg, the other against my left. I was leaning against the front of my couch again because I knew if I sat on the couch I would get too comfortable and possibly doze off. Even as uncomfortable as the floor may have been for them, even as inviting as the couch and two other chairs in the room may have been, my babies laid next to their Momma on the floor enjoying random pettings and the closeness.

There just isn't anything like the love of animals. My mom told me once she heard somewhere that if you died in your house, your dog(s) would lay beside you and probably whine. They would be your guardians even in death. If you had a cat...they would eat you. I don't plan on passing on anytime soon, but that doesn't stop me from worrying about my cat.