“Remoted” – Day 528 (Thursday) National Dog Day

Winston and Moose, earlier times.

Today, my Facebook memories feature was full of photos from past years of National Dog Day. It was bittersweet looking at photos.

It’s interesting to see the changes over the  years as white hair filled in Moose’s face. Winston seems to hide his age better, maybe because his face and coat are partly white and light tan already. He just has a couple telltale white hairs in the solid black part of his back. 

It’s weird with just Winston around, but I’m getting used to the new daily rhythms. He doesn’t get up until I get up in the morning, which means I now get to sleep every day until 6:15 when the alarm goes off. During staycation, we slept until 7:30 or later nearly every day, and weekends are now full of potential for sleeping in. Winston stays upstairs, posed at the top of the staircase until I call him for breakfast, and comes downstairs only after he hears the special prescription kibble hit the bowl.

Winston and Moose, 2020.

Unlike Moose, who would begin begging for supper sometimes as early as 3:30, I have to call Winston to supper, and like breakfast, he doesn’t appear until the food has hit the bowl and the bowl is in place on the floor. This little guy is not going to waste his time standing around in the wings waiting for the food to be ready. 

Moose used to stay in the kitchen/office with me all day, rotating between laying in his bed, under my desk, and behind the desk chair. Maybe he was keeping an eye on me the same way I kept my eye on him. 

Winston values independence and slips off on his own, napping on the couch or laying in the sliver of sunshine on the dining room floor during the day, appearing only periodically to beg for treats and occasionally to go outside to potty.

Winston, 2021.

At 10:00, Moose, aka “Little Big Ben” thanks to his acute sense of time, would walk over and stare at me until I acknowledged that yes, it’s bedtime. Winston does not share this rigid concept of time, and sleeps in the living room until I wake him up and tell him we’re going to bed.

It’s become pretty clear over the past couple weeks who the real head of household was since 2009, and it wasn’t me. Without the guidance of Overlord Moose, keeper of the schedules, the past few weeks things have gotten really lax at the BungaLowell with sleeping late and eating at different times.  It will be interesting to see how this plays out over time.