Dog days of Summer

Sometimes I think Sundays were a gift from God to us. Then, I realize that they were, actually, a gift from God to us. I need to live with a better appreciation of that (as if im not lazy enough).

Today is one of those Sundays. Taught class this morning, went to a new members luncheon for a free lunch- with only a few cars to help park before and chairs to fold up after- We came home and both laid down on the couches (Holly on the short couch, me on the long couch) to read our books, and both Holly and I fell asleep within three pages. That, ladies and gents, is a great Sunday afternoon. I have had better, but not too many better, that is fo' shizzle. In an hour or so, we will get ready to go to lifegroup, meet with some close friends, and catch up on whats going on in thier lives. Top that, i dare you. (and no stories about childbirth or anything sappy like that... I mean, normal days, here)

Yesterday was also a great day. We slept in a few hours, got up, decided to take a walk up to the used bookstore across from the Lipscomb campus. We figured on the walk taking a little while, since it is about two miles from our little duplex, but, truthfully we both felt so optimistically sporty that we didnt think too much about it. Gus, our ten pound Schnorkie (shnauser/yorkie mix) is full of boundless energy, and just the day before had run two miles with Holly. Two miles on his little four legs is quite a haul, but he seemed eager the whole way and didnt have any problems. Yesterday, however, we somehow found his limit.

We walked up to the bookstore, and he seemed excited the whole way. He drank some water we brought at several points during the walk, but really seemed like he was doing fine. We got the the used bookstore, looked around (gus mainly sniffed around... old books must smell very interesting, in much the same way as poop is interesting), made a few selections, and then walked next door to a pizza/sandwich shop to get some lunch and eat at the Lipscomb playground. Gus was happy with this arrangement and laid down in the shade while we ate and talked for a while. As we started to walk home, however, it became apparent that Gus had had enough. Every ten steps or so, he would plant his heels into a shady spot on the side of the road and plop down. We gave him more water. Ten steps, then PLOP. We gave him some rest. Ten steps, the PLOP. He would literally just be walking normally, then fall over and let us drag him on his leash for a few inches. It was pretty funny, as he just looked at us like" you've got to be kidding me- seriously... go get the car."

At some point I got worried about him overheating and decided that we better carry him for a while. I picked him up, but he wriggles around until im holding him like a baby, on his back, in a cradle, with his legs up in the air and his head hanging off my arm and tongue lolling out, inspecting the world upside down and from four feet up. Apparently Gus was quite pleased with this arrangement, because for the rest of the 2-point-something miles, he insisted on being chauffered home. So here Holly and I are, walking down our neighborhood street, with this little hairy bundle that looks disturbingly like a dead dog in my arms. Several people along the way asked us if we needed help, "Is your dog Ok?", one man who had stopped mowing his lawn said. "Yeah, hes just tired", I said, realizing how stupid I looked carrying this dog/baby. But, in the end, there was nothing for it, because the little Gusbuster had run out of steam and saw no reason at all why we couldnt just lie down in the shade of someone's lawn and take a nap.

We got home and Gus slept for the rest of the day, pretty much, and most of the day today... but truthfully, thats not much different than any other day for him. As it is, today Im wishing that every day were Saturday and Sunday afternoons- or that I was a dog. Just not one that eats poop.