A supplement of sorts to the previous post.

Your day starts at 6 AM with a dog retching beside your bed. The noise rouses you from dreaming, and you stumble out of the room, urging the dog to follow you to the kitchen and its tiled floor.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t quite make it.

Still half-asleep, you clean up the carpet and then fall back into bed. The dog lies down next to you, wide-eyed and sad, as if he can’t believe his stomach has betrayed him.

An hour later, the alarm goes off, and it’s much too soon. But what can you do? It’s time for breakfast, emails, and work. Not long after that, it’s time for lunch, errands, and work. And a little later, it’s time for dinner and chores, and maybe some more work. The day rolls on, no relief, layering its stresses upon you one tick of the clock at a time.

Finally, when most of your to-do list has been checked off — the rest will have to wait until tomorrow — you settle on the sofa, curling into the corner and sinking into the cushions. The TV is on but you barely hear it. Your eyes are open, but your mind is in Sleep Mode. You feel… nothing.

Minutes pass. Then something moves in the corner of your vision. A paw.

You turn to see your dog tucked into the opposite corner of the sofa, a furry ball of sleep. You watch him. His little belly rises and falls with each slow, soothing breath. His nose twitches. His ears are askew. His eyes have disappeared into the black spots that surround them. His tail is wrapped around him like punctuation mark, and his head is nestled between his front legs.

You smile.

Peace settles over you like a warm blanket. You feel grateful for this one tiny moment, this perfect picture of serenity. You realize that life is a two-sided coin: everything is balanced. Suddenly you don’t feel so stressed.

When you get up, the dog follows. He stands in your closet while you change into pajamas. He sits at your feet while you brush your teeth. He looks at you hopefully when you open the fridge for a glass of water. He jumps onto the sheets when you turn off the lights and slip into bed.

At 11 PM your day ends with a dog resting his head on your leg. You both sleep soundly.

Dear Momma,

Yesterday I turned 3 years old. But apparently you don’t care, because you didn’t even blog about it until Dad (posing as me) told you to. That’s fine, I see how it is.

Well, maybe someone else will appreciate me. Hey guys, if any of you are interested in an adorable, snuggly, 25-lb. guard dog who can sit, stay, lie down, come, roll over, play dead, shake, catch, and bow, I’m available!

I also make good art…

I can carry stuff…

And if you take me to work, I will increase your productivity (or at least your popularity).

Send me your best offers! Bribes are accepted. I prefer kibbles, Frosty Paws, or a thick juicy stick/steak (either one will do).

Love,
Riley

Last week, in spite of a nasty RSI flare-up, I finished the sample pages of my proposed Twenty-Somewhere revision (!!!). Today, I sent them off to an agent and an editor (well, technically their assistants). Tonight, I am going to celebrate and relax — by READING!

(And also: by starting my next manuscript while I wait to hear back from said assistants, which will probably take a few weeks. Yeah, this process never ends.)

Over the weekend, Andy and I took a real break by going up to Columbus to visit friends who recently moved there. We brought Riley with us to play with our friends’ dog Dill. Of course, Dill’s definition of play involves toys and chasing and wrestling. Riley’s definition involves walking around and sniffing things. Needless to say, Dill was disappointed.

Also, I totally wanted to steal this “little” Bernese Mountain Dog puppy. Unfortunately, his owners were actually paying attention to him! Who does that?

After doggie playtime, we humans moseyed on over to the Ohio State Fair. Lots of livestock, fried food, and Midway games you can’t win.

What did you do this weekend?

I’m… surviving. The past few days I’ve had almost no free time until dinner, and by then all I wanted to do was eat and then sleep. (Or at least veg out.) For the record, I’ve STILL met my word quotas every day. Despite really really really wanting to skip them and go to bed instead. The WIP is now at 16,000 words.

The reason for my exhaustion: Our move (work, not home) is now exactly 1 week away. But surprisingly, things seem to be under control. (I think.) A lot of that is because my coworker had her college-aged son and two of his friends come be my slaves helpers. They moved furniture around in our new office space, and packed up the basement of our old building. They were great — both as helpers and guys — but it was a little strange to realize that they probably thought of me as “old” just because I’m in the working world and they’re still students. Being considered old = -_-

Fortunately, the best St. Patrick’s Day story ever = ^_^

No seriously. READ IT.

Also, as promised, here are a few pics of Riley’s new next door buddy, Sunny:

Please note that Sunny is a whopping 8 weeks old and already as big as Riley.

Also, he has this weird habit of going to lie in the mulch around the a/c units. Don’t ask.

Also, he always wants attention. Weird, right? It’s like he’s a puppy or something.