I Wait for the Dogs

I wait for the dogs. Tasks must get done; that is the job, a job I’ve done a lot of years now with a whole lot of students, most of them teenagers, but sometimes adults or even little children as victim, er recipients of my teaching. I like my job….I think I’ve done good.

Most of the time. I truly, truly hope.

But now, of an afternoon, when fatigue overtakes the fun—and, oh yes, teaching brings lots of fun, otherwise, well, why?, when my students cannot keep their phones in their pockets, no matter my threats, when I start to even wonder why it matters, that “phone out of sight” rule, I take a breath, look around at all the kids who, truly, I love, and know that as I watch and wonder, what my heart begins to do is wait for the dogs.

They will grin and wag, so overjoyed just at my presence, just at the thought that I returned to them after an absence of so many hours—even if the day were minutes.

They adore me with their eyes, tell me with their bodies’ wiggles that they missed me, that they smelled all day the scent I left in the morning as it dissipated during the day, telling them my arrival grew closer and closer, that they started to listen as the sun moved up in the sky, over the house, and started its descent, moving down its course till evening could not be far away. Just then, just as it moved halfway between the hottest time and dinner (and they all know dinner), they know to be alert:  soon they should hear my car. One of them inevitably goes to lie under the tree r-i-g-h-t behind the fence. There, he (or, maybe, she) can see as soon as I turn into the drive….and alert the others.

And, then, when the car does turn into the drive, a black and white body leaps up, flies up the steps, through the doggy door. Mike also knows his role, and the front door opens:  no matter how much they want it, the dogs do not yet ha

ve opposable thumbs. The dogs fly out, leap off the porch, encircle the car. “We knew you were coming! We knew! We knew!”

As I gather my things, change clothes, do the afternoon/evening must-dos, Mike takes them out for a bout of tennis ball throwing. By the time I’m ready for the couch, they return, eyes adoring, heads on my legs, begging for a hug, a rub, assuring me I’m the bestest human ever to have lived on Planet Earth, and would I, myself, like to throw a tennis ball? If so, here is one, right HERE!

Whatever I do the rest of the evening, I do with company. I would not have it any other way.

If I waited for students to assure me that I surpass all other humans in all areas ever known to man, I would wait forever and always know disappointment. Oh, I get positive reinforcement from them at times. And we do, indeed, have us some fun.

But, when I need to know I am loved unconditionally, want to hear and see that no one better walks the Earth, when it’s just good to know there is true, absolute, unqualified, unrestricted, unreserved love directed at me—someone who truly seldom, if ever, deserves such a gift—well…..

…….I wait for the dogs.