Routine, ritual or habit?

Whichever one it is, I’ve realized how important it is to have one of those at least once a day to make things flow a bit easier when owning a Charley Waffle.

I was trying to think of the word that had the best definition of what I was trying to say and these three were the ones that popped up. Routine, ritual or habit.

A routine is; a sequence of actions regularly followed; a fixed program.

A ritual’s definition is; a religious or solemn ceremony consisting of a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order, and a habit is defined as;  settled or regular tendency or practice, especially one that is hard to give up.

A habit is” a settled or regular tendency or practice, especially one that is hard to give up.

Hmm…

I happened to wake up a bit later than I usually do the other morning. I actually think I subconsciously planned that when I decided to drink an extra glass of red wine. It was my Saturday anyway, so what difference would it make?

I rustled myself out of bed, looked at the sun coming through the windows, and met Charley’s forlornly (?) eyes while I was giving her morning salutations. “Hey, what’s wrong Squishy?” I asked, knowing full well what was wrong with her.

I told her, already feeling condemned out of my own guilt, “Hey, I am allowed to sleep in once in awhile. I don’t have to get up every morning just so you can go wake up bunnies.” Then, thinking this suggestion would pay for that look I got, and remembering I had some things to do that morning I said, “I’ll let you go to the post office with me, and then we’ll hop on a bus to go to the lake for the afternoon.” I figured I’d get her morning walk in and one of my to-do things on my list. I’d just rearrange the rest after the lake.

So pathetic of me. Like a trip to the post office is a substitute for waking up sleeping bunnies and running around unleashed on a huge piece of land (rec field) Plus, I knew she was thinking that I was being condescending and sounding really stupid. She is quite demanding, though.

I got her to go to the post office without a hitch but when we walked out I was planning on catching the bus right there so it would be a one shot to the lake, which I knew would wear her out and I could be free to do whatever else I needed to be done later.

She had other plans. As soon as we got to the street she started doing what I call her “intent” or “alert” sniffing. She’ll stop and hold her nose high in the air and starts to deliberately smelling whatever profound thing to her is breezing in the wind. I brace myself for what I knew was probably going to happen. She starts doing this panic thing. She will start wildly looking around, then scrunch almost flat to the ground and start doing a massive pull. She looks like one of those contestants that are trying to pull a locomotive or a large truck with her body, me being the large vehicle. No matter what I do, say or how I try to stop her she will not stop. Not only does it concern me, it concerns others that are nearby. I don’t know if it looks as if she’s trying her best to get away from me, or if people think I’m beating her, or that I’m really not her owner… I am really not sure. But she usually gets her own way after that.

Whether she is really upset or she knows it gets me to make her the number 1 priority, I don’t know. It’s a flip of the coin. She’s smart. People say she’s not conscience of those kind of things, but I’m not sure. She’s a smarty farty thing.

I let her lead the way because at this point I think I’d make a bigger scene and scare her and everyone else, not to mention we are right downtown with lots of people and buses and cars.

What she ends up doing was, to me, non-sensical. She drags me home, past the place we usually go to in the morning on our walks, then stops and collects herself as we are at the front door, then turns and starts heading back out again. By then I was happy she’d mellowed out, and kept asking her what exactly was wrong. She’s not too verbal when answering that question. I only keep getting this looking back at me with innocent eyes.

We go a few blocks until I realize what she is doing. I don’t say anything just in case I was wrong, because I wanted to see if I was right.

She led me all the way back to the park that we had passed on the panicked way home. The same one we go to every morning. The one that I’d missed that morning because I had slept in.

It was then I realized. What a creature of habit, and how dare I mess up our routine. I guess I’ve got to make it our daily ritual from now on. If not, I get a panic stricken stressed out dog of a morning not to mention a longer dog walk to boot.

Silly Squishy Bean Charley. Butt-head.


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