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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Potty Waltz

Ever see a kid do a potty dance? You know the slow do-si-do involving crossed legs, and possibly crossed eyes? Occasionally, the polka version of the potty dance includes the clenched thigh forward tango, the tight turn and the final leap onto the toilet.

Dogs have a potty dance. At least mine do. It is practiced several times a day with varying results. This would describe my reaction.

Anticipation? Watching the "finding-the-sweet-spot" potty waltz.

Frustration? Hoping, coaching, waiting, finally giving up only to be summoned to the door 25 minutes later.

Insanity? Two dogs with unique potty peculiarities and ADHD. 
"Squirrel? Bark!!! What was that? Bark?" 
Tear to the right. Stop. Sniff. Run left. Stop. Sniff. 
"Wait? Is that a squirrel?" Bark!!!!

Satisfaction? Two dogs who go directly out and take care of bizness then tire of sniffing before the mosquitoes come out to feast on the people who wait patiently for the dogs to for-reals go potty.


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