This is Daisy. Daisy is lazy ... or at least VERY comfortable most of the time. We laugh because it's either this soft-throned queen napping or a vigilant pursuit of whatever she feels needs her attention to make things right. There's no middle ground. When she's in her comfort zone, she doesn't want to leave. When she's told it's time to go outside, she usually does so reluctantly. And if there's nothing to hold her attention, she's back at the door ready for her cushion again. If there is something to hold her attention, she goes overboard and once again, she has to be instructed (and sometimes forced) to go back inside.
She really isn't interested in doing much of anything others think up for her. She thinks too much. She evaluates everything. And she is already well aware that there is much to monitor ... and acts like she's the only one monitoring it. (And I'll let you in on a secret. She kind of is - no one would care if she didn't!)
Daisy has a dead-pan expression that can't quite imitate a smile. And even when she wants attention, it's a flat and authoritative grabbing paw that finds your arm or knee. "It's time for love," she paws. "It's time for love now."
I have to admit, I can find myself feeling that way sometimes. I'm going through my day doing things because I know they should be done. I can never get out the door of my own doing ... always being dragged by a schedule or a prompt or a pressure. When there's a moment to breathe, I can't seem to do anything. And if there is something that pulls me enough to snap me into focus, it will be hard to get me out! My furrowed brow is and indication of my consuming intent to finish or pursue something.
So when I realize this, I feel alone.
Like Daisy, I paw at myself with a monotone, you-know-you-need-to-do-this voice, "It's time for ________." What do I do? I don't have the luxury of someone at hand who takes care of everything in my world, sitting nearby ready to pour on the love. And I don't want to depend on anyone else for it, either. I want to stir it up myself.
"It's time for love."
"It's time for joy."
"It's time for peace."
"It's time for creativity."
Nothing.
I can't seem to summon the those things on my own lately. I'm just flat worn out.
P.S. Hank, on the other hand, is our happy-go-lucky lab. He's along for the ride and will turn with the tide. He, too, has a flop mode but his intensity isn't vigilance - it's usually playful and expressive. And if he exhausts himself with anything, it's with excitement over something - a toy, a person, another dog, FOOD. He begins to perk up when he hears, "Do you want to ...," in anticipation of "... go outside?" And bursts into action.
I wish I were more like Hank.
