Asynchronous meditations

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

We finally got our daughter sleeping in her own bed and things were getting into a comfortable routine, and then IT happened. Yes, sweetie, we'll get a puppy. Those sweetly simple words. True to promise, we now have the world's cutest new puppy. She's a miniature schnauzer named....dare I say it...Sweetie Pie. Hmm. Just TRY to sternly reprimand a puppy named Sweetie Pie. It's hard. "Sweetie Pie - stop eating the bougainvillea!" "Sweetie Pie - for the 19th time leave the cat's tail ALONE!" "Sweetie Pie - let GO of my toes!"Actually, she's a pretty good dog, and she has blended in well with our household routine. It's funny how God answers prayer. Some time ago I began really missing the morning prayer time I used to have. I had been praying to wake up earlier so I could have it back again. The time of 4:30 a.m. had been occurring to me. Lo and behold, that's just about the time S.P. needs to go outside.

When I'm putting on my sweats and stumbling outside in the dark with S.P. I invent all sorts of high-tech contraptions like a robot dog taker-outer. There already exists an automatic pet door, but I don't trust it - I'm sure there is a rabid raccoon or a maniacal midget waiting on the other side who will leap in just as the dog is going out, and attack us in our sleep. Besides, we have two doors between the inside of the house and the outside world. So I imagine a vision-based system that would track the dog through the house, signal the first door to open at the right moment, play a recording of my voice saying "come on Sweetie Pie, let's go. Come on girl. That's a good doggy," trigger a robotic arm attached to the doorway to wave a treat, open the second door, repeat, and then reverse it all to get her back in. But then I would miss out on all that good fresh night air and those beautiful, mysterious pre-dawn outdoor sounds (what in the heck makes that creepy low cackling in those bushes anyway?) . My wife has a different approach. She stumbles to the door in her P.J.'s , uses one foot to launch the puppy down the ramp*, and waits for her return.

Anyway, a new puppy is a lot of fun, and Tammy and I have a bit more private time while Sara is occupied with the puppy. For those of you with small children, you know exactly what "private time" is a code word for. Yes, that's right. It's time when you get to have a mini-conversation that proceeds as follows:
-He talks, she listens intently.
-She responds, he listens intently.
-He asks a question, she responds thoughtfully.
-They look lovingly into each other's eyes and are glad to be married.

This is distinct from the usual form of exchange that takes place when your 5-year old is in the room.
He talks, she says "no you may NOT have a cookie until after dinner. What dear?"
He: repeats patiently.
Child: "Mommy, I mean Daddy, how do you spell 'love'?"
He: "L-O-V-E."
She: Don't use that marker - it's permanent.
Child: I'm making a valentine card for Nana.
She: That's nice. What dear?
He (grumbling): I was wondering what time the wedding is this weekend.
She: Don't get that tape on the table - it will pull off the varnish. What dear?
He: when is the..."
She: STOP leaning in the chair, you're going to squish the puppy!
He: ..the wedding
She: I don't know - it's in the email somewhere. By the way there's a message about some kind of virus on the computer.
He: Hmmm. I think I'll take a look and see about that.
Child: Daddy- before you get on the computer can I print Hello Kitty? PLEEEASE?
...

*(A while back I thought it would be neat to have a ramp to the back yard instead of stairs - everyone thought I was nuts. Maybe so - but now I can say I was thinking ahead to when I trip over the puppy and end up in a wheel chair.)