Dog Breath

The storm is raging. The thunder is shaking the house and the flashes of lightening are lighting up the room like a flood light. The roof has dissolved and even though I am still in bed I can feel the rain on my face and the wind is causing the hair that has escaped from my ponytail to tickle my ears and neck. A gust of wind shifts my whole body. I pull the covers up closer around my neck and peek out through the one eye that’s not buried in the pillow.  It is raining, but the roof is fine. The rain on my face is the steady drip of drool coming from the mouth of a golden retriever on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I smell the distinct odor of gravy train as my mind shakes off the cobwebs of sleep and the gusts of wind become puffs of panting dog breath. Lightning flashes brightly and the crack of a close strike rocks the house and the dog actually tries to burrow her head under my neck. I look at the clock. 5:45AM. Fine. I’m up.

I push 75 pounds of hairy dead weight off of me and head to the tiny half bath that is attached to our bedroom. Scout is tight on my heels. As I run the water to wash the dried puddles of dog drool off of my face, Scout squeezes her giant self between my feet and the sink. I try to nudge her out of the way, but she is having none of it. Like a child throwing a tantrum, she has actually gone limp. Passive resistance. You have to respect that. I manage to wash my face while leaning over the dog and move on to the kitchen.

I grab the coffee pot and walk to the sink to fill it. As I am walking back to the coffee maker Scout walks right in front of me and leans against my legs. I stumble and splash the water onto the floor. I catch my balance…wait, nope, I’m going down. I have a glass coffee pot in one hand and the dog on the opposite side so I have no way of catching myself. I have no choice but to tuck and roll. The coffee pot bounces once…twice…I squeeze my eyes shut and wince at the third bounce knowing this one is going to break it and I will have to venture out in the rain to get my morning coffee. Scout has the audacity to whimper like I’m frightening her with my shenanigans. The cats scatter like water on a hot skillet, turning over the dog’s water in the process. There wasn’t a crash so I open my eyes and see the coffee pot is sitting upright spinning victoriously. But there are huge puddles of water everywhere. I pull my knees up to my chest and just breathe for a minute. I take in deep breaths and let go of the anger that makes me want to punch my dog in the face. Lightening crashes again. Scout nudges her head between my calves and the backs of my thighs. I just sigh and the reach over and scratch her head.