Choices

I have a routine. Monday through Friday, I get up, take my shower, get dressed (including my shoes), go downstairs, let two dogs out, make coffee, feed the cat and take the third dog for a walk. When I get back, I let the dogs in, pack my lunch and go to work. The weekends are different. I sleep in a little longer. When I get up, I go downstairs (still in my pajamas), let the dogs out, feed the cat, make coffee and try to keep an eye on the dogs (since Tucker is an escape artist). Sometimes, like this morning, that doesn't work out for me.

I looked out the backdoor, just in time to see Tucker climbing over the fence. I ran through the house, grabbing the leash (which is strategically placed just for this scenario), and out the front door to make chase. Of course, I was still in my pajamas, unshowered, sans my morning coffee. So, yes, I probably looked a fright. It usually only takes me a block or so to catch him. I realize that this is his way of sticking to our routine of the morning walk. Today, however, he was off on a full run. Which meant I was at a full run after him (cursing under my breath). After about a half a mile, he was still ahead of me and passing a jogger. I yelled to her to please grab him for me. She stopped and turned, just as he squatted to take care of business. "Uh, he's all yours" she told me, as I caught up to him and secured the leash. Then she looked at me (in my pajamas and out of breath) disdainfully, and asked me if I wanted a bag to clean up after him.

I really am a responsible pet owner. I do clean up after my pets. I do not take the time to grab a bag when I am chasing a runaway. Apparently her house was right there, I gratefully accepted her gift of a grocery bag, and picked up after my dog.

As I was walking back home with him...trying to beat the rain and badly needing my coffee and a cigarette (yes, I know they are bad for me). I considered what she probably thought. Then I decided that I didn't care. After all, our routines weren't that different. We were both out on an early morning jog (albeit, with different motivation).

This week has been hectic, I have found myself being much more reactive than proactive. I did have a plan, it just didn't go according to schedule. I have been a bit anxious and unorganized. I have been trying to get ahead of the game at work and at home, planning for my upcoming vacation. Unfortunately, most of my efforts have been derailed by mini-crisises that have arisen all week. Sometimes, life just happens. I am good at activating plan B and adjusting to the curve ball. Though, there are times when I envy people whose lives always seem to go according to plan A. I could make some changes to ensure things followed my plan. I could be more organized, I could get completely dressed first thing on Sunday morning, I could choose not to own rescued dogs (who won't be deterred by fences and commands), I could choose a more conventional profession, I could tell my sons, now that they're adults, they're completely on their own. Without the dogs and cat and children and grandchildren, I would have more money, more time, less stress and a cleaner house. This certainly isn't the life I envisioned when I was 20. This is the life that I choose, over and over again.

Do I have regrets? Occasionally, but they don't last long. There are times when I feel a fleeting twinge after passing on new clothes and shoes, so my grandchildren will have new clothes and shoes. When I pass on a haircut, so I can buy dog food. When finishing my degree and having a running vehicle is put on hold (again), for a myriad of other needs and causes. Then I feel gratitude. Gratitude that I have good friend that allows me to ride to work with her every day. Gratitude that I feel each day on my arrival back home, seeing three furry faces at the window. Gratitude that my grandchildren are happy and healthy. Gratitude in knowing that my plans will eventually come to fruition (and it doesn't matter if I am 55 or 60 when that occurs). Gratitude, that in this economy, I have a home and a job and health insurance. Gratitude that I can be happy living out plan B.

The escape artist, after the great escape.
How can I be mad at that sweet face?