A Completely Fluffy Tail (Tale)

“A dog owns nothing yet is seldom dissatisfied.” Irish Proverb

I’d like to tag onto the above referenced proverb with one of my own: A dog does nothing and is completely content. Almost every morning when I let Bella, the Wheaten Terrier, out of her crate, she stretches her front legs then back legs, yawns and scurries to me, tail wagging. A couple of strokes later, she jumps over the back of the couch, circles three times and positions herself near soft pillows. A full night of sleep and she’s all ready for her early morning nap. Gazing at her curled up, I wish I could join her in her sweet repose. Must be nice to not feel a sense of urgency to do anything all day.

In stark contrast, my morning is brimming with all manner of doing--awaking contrary kids for school, getting Crunch Berries and chocolate milk, bagging lunches, prodding said kids again. Rushing, hurrying, always doing. Miss Daydreamer finally sleepwalks into the kitchen.

“Maddie, you have 8 minutes to eat your cereal. When the timer goes off, get your teeth brushed and hair combed so you can practice your piano for 30 minutes.”

Yes, I set a timer for the girl that tends to dilly dally and daydream, the girl who hasn’t perfected the art of time management, like me. In the meantime, Bella snoozes contentedly, on her back with her form fully extended and legs stretched. Jealous, I check on laundry then head to the powder room for a little freshening up. The timer beeps, but I’m convinced Maddie doesn’t zoom off her stool just yet. Ten minutes pass, and I don’t hear the pounding of the piano. Another typical day. Sigh. Time for nagging and nudging.

“Maddie, you need to be playing the piano now!” I yell from my bathroom.

“I know,” she responds. Alas, she always knows. Why doesn’t she do? Bella’s the only one that can get away with sprawling and doing nothing. Ten to one Maddie is still in the bathroom primping. As I venture toward her bathroom, she emerges, hair pony-tailed, lips glossed and hands lotioned.

Setting the timer for piano practice, I say, “You only have 20 minutes now since you took so long in the bathroom.”

Maddie bangs piano keys, stumbling through scales and a song. While wasting several minutes making up melodies, the bell beeps and we bee-line for the bus. I breathe relief as I reenter the house noticing Bella lying on the couch, serene except for exuberant wagging. She jumps down, following me into the kitchen while I grab water bottles in preparation for the merciless cardio machine. A girl of routine, Bella recalls my schedule, soars over the back of the sofa, snuggling once again on top of fluffiness. When I return from doing, she will be napping in the same place, body elongated, tail wagging wildly.

Ahhh, the sweet bliss of simply being, content to do nothing but twitching tail.