“Remoted” Workday 186 / Day 277 (Friday)

My source of torment and joy.

At 4:45 this morning, Moose barked me awake to go outside. This is not unusual. While the Canine Overlords were outside, I sprinted to the human potty to take care of myself. That’s when Moose decided to bark loudly in his most shrill yap at maximum volume to come back inside. This happens any time I don’t wait at the door and watch him. We returned to bed, and shortly after I dozed off again, snuggled under the covers, there was a weird sound from the space between the bed and the wall. It was Moose, backing himself into the narrow space, where he dropped a big ole poop on the rug. It was impressive in both volume and aroma. Cleanup commenced. 

Like most mornings, Moose barked from around 5:30 until I was finally ready to get up with the alarm at 6:00. Practically every morning starts with the tiny tyrant barking at me. It’s glorious. While I dress, he licks my feet. This is one of Moose’s weird “things,” but at least it keeps him calm and he stops barking until I put socks on, and he amps it up even more when I put shoes on. It’s similar to the lecture I get when opening the door to the coat closet. 

Weekend wine o'clock
with chocolates.

During a 15-minute, highly efficient afternoon shoveling session at the steps to the deck, Moose was outside keeping an eye on me from the enclosed yard. At first he was staring at me from the between the pickets. Then he backed himself up to a snow bank that is roughly the same height as he is. He appeared to be sitting on the snow bank, which looked funny, but he wasn’t sitting. When he stepped away, it was revealed that he had planted a poop on the edge of the snowbank, seeming to defy gravity. It was quite an artistic accomplishment. This dog cracks me up with something every day. 

Once done with work, it was time to pause and admire the house across Beaver Brook. For a couple weeks it has had a candle in every window, and seen between the bare trees in the darkness it looks warm and welcoming. In the summer, the house can’t even be seen through the leaves. Wine was opened to accompany homemade toasted tortilla triangles with garlic salt and guacamole while sitting near the silver tree. Chocolates followed and the weekend was declared.