Many-Paws...Many Hooves

               A few years ago (really just a few) I hit that age that old women animal lovers call “many-paws.” It causes temperature changes in your body—and, truth be told—other bodily changes, some welcome, most you’d gladly not have happen. SOME women—none we know, of course—seem to start collecting animals, hence the “many-paws” title.

               For well over—like lots and lots over—fifty years, I could sleep anywhere and for a long time. Then, seemingly overnight, I couldn’t. Always a morning person, waking at 5:00 chipper and ready to start the day, I like seeing the sun rise, hearing the birds wake, having time alone to prepare to face what will come, dogs and cats lying around me peacefully. However, now 5:00 is a stretch, no matter what time I fall asleep at night. Generally, 2:30 finds my eyes open, staring at the clock, betting with myself if I lie there long enough, will I be able to return to sleep, should I get up for a bathroom run, and, if I do, will I disturb Mike so much that he will wake up? For the first 30 years of our marriage, he fought for sleep.

               Payback and all that.

               Usually I slip quietly out of bed myself—but three dogs have to stretch and moan and whine and talk as they raise their behinds in the air, their front legs as far in front as they can. Then as I try to sneak down the hall to the living room QUIETLY, River stops directly in front of me and I grab a wall or door—or dog—to keep from falling.

               Mike has learned to go back to sleep quickly.

               Henry runs to get fed and, though I would let him fuss and whine and not reward him, there is that “meowing” factor and trying to let Mike sleep. So, I open a can of food he won’t eat, he usually sniffs haughtily, turns up his nose, eats three—four?—bites of kibble, jumps off his feeding table, stalks to the door (I’ll show you—I’ll just go outside and pout-and be back in 20 minutes to ask for more) and I open the door to let him do just that.

               Eventually I get to the couch and the heating pad for my back, the kindle fire playing a video to watch or putting up a book to read. If I’m fortunate, I nap a few minutes here or there.

               Around 4:30 I rise, feed the dogs, give Whisper his puppy Prozac, grab a bath (no doubt disturbing Mike again) gather my things—forgetting this or that most mornings, but at 5:00 in the morning I will cut myself some slack—and leave home soon after that 5:00 a.m. time……

               ……so I am at school early, where I check in on fb, grab breakfast, and get LOTS of my work done before the students arrive.

               What it does do, though, is shorten your day at the end…by the time the dismissal bell ends at 3:00, I am pretty dismissed myself. Like caricatures of old people, Mike and I have early dinners….he will call me and say, “call me when you leave and I will start cooking” or “order a pizza” or “go get…..” whatever. The dogs, ecstatic to see me, don’t expect much.

               But, my biggest sadness, since school has started, I miss the horses.  At times I have brought barn clothes with me, but then Mike calls, “I’ll have dinner when you get home,” and if I reach the couch, leaving just won’t happen. Seven o’clock comes…..and I’m gone.

               I try to stay up later. Even at times I make it till 9:00, stumble down the hall, the dogs looking up at me. “FINALLY. We’ve been waiting on you—what’s up with this late night?” And, then, at 2:30 my eyes open, and my brain starts in.

               I wonder if Tripp wonders where I am….on Saturday, he probably will come to me, happy I have arrived, scarfing down his applesauce, eager for other treats, and, more meaningful to me, nuzzling my hands, my shoulder:  “Where you been?” Somehow, I need to turn “many-paws” into “many-hooves.” No, I don’t need additional horses….but barn time soothes me in ways even my adored dogs cannot. I have in my heart a horse-shaped hole, like those children’s toys where they place the shapes that only fit specific figures and, as much as they try to put the triangle in the circle, it just won’t go. Just as the dogs go into the dog-shaped heart-holes, I need the horses to slip into the horse-shaped heart-holes, their soothing silhouettes to calm my running brain, keep it from thinking of topics that make that heart hurt……bring me closer to the peace that I find in their presence.

               Well, necessity mothering invention, and all that—early days yet—I’ll figure it out.  Sooner, hopefully, rather than later, I’ll keep my eyes shut till 3:30 or 4:00! And, after my workday ends, I’ll head to the barn and that horse-formed-outline will slip into the horse-shaped profile in my heart.

               Sigh…..I feel better just at the thought of it.