There are dogs. And then there are our dogs. Oliver and Wookie do not simply “live” at Winterpast. Every day, they hold court and call all the shots as only our beloved pets can do. The title of this post holds the real question. Just WHO are the PETS??
Their day begins promptly at 5:00 am Not 5:07 or whenever the “pets” feel like it.
Five.
On.
The.
Dot.
It begins with a small scratch on their bedroom (laundry room during the day) door. Then a plaintive whine. Like Chinese water torture, it doesn’t stop until one of us gets up to let them out. Between those two, an alarm clock is unnecessary because they never oversleep.
Breakfast is served immediately upon royal request. Not kibble alone, but a little freshly shredded cheese atop their food. While waiting for their morning meal, they wait, seated and quivering, as if watching a five-star chef complete a masterpiece. It’s perhaps the only household in America where two small dogs eat more promptly than the adults.
By 6:00 am, they have completed breakfast, perimeter inspection of the yard, and at least one supervisory lap through the house to ensure we are performing our duties correctly.
Their soft beds hold carefully arranged blankets. The water bowl is refreshed with the kind of attention usually reserved for houseplants and small royalty. We ARE permitted to use the washer and dryer during the day provided we do not disturb their nap schedules.
At precisely 3:00 pm, snack time is non-negotiable. If we’re distracted, a polite reminder is issued. If that fails, a slightly less polite reminder follows. One stands very still and stares while the other might pounce, both remarkably effective.
Dinner is delivered at 4:00 pm sharp. The punctuality of this household revolves entirely around two furry stomachs.
To her credit, Wookie has started paying attention to our friend, the squirrel. When seen, she flies out of the house to chase him over the fence. She’ll never catch him, but it makes both of us feel a little better that she can at least do something during the day.
When the sun shines, they burst into the yard like Olympians released onto the field. Racing. Twisting. Barking at imaginary adversaries. The decomposed granite paths of Winterpast tremble beneath their enthusiasm as rocks and bark fly everywhere.
When it’s 19 degrees outside, however, their athletic ambitions dissappear and they relocate to the couch. Occasionally, one eye opens to confirm that we’re still present and available for tummy rubs or other demands.
Puppy camp remains their social scene. They return exhausted, happy, and slightly opinionated about the behavior of others. I suspect they believe they are ambassadors of refinement.
The truth is, these two have it all. Structured meal plans. Climate-controlled housing. A private retreat room. Outdoor recreation. Day spa-level boarding experiences. A full-time staff of two. And love. So much love.
We talk about them more than is reasonable. We laugh at them more than is polite. We schedule around them more than is practical. They are woven into the rhythm of Winterpast as surely as the seasons and the birds and the wind that sweeps across the high desert.
Oliver and Wookie may be the most pampered pets in the world, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.
We love them.
It’s just that simple.
