My life as a couch

I am so tired, leaving work, I could just lie down in the dirt. Thankfully Tiny Dog urged me to the car, but she would’ve been happy to sit on my lap, wherever we went.

Basically, I am a chihua couch. My lap is rarely vacant, and why should it be? So much ample real estate of comfort. Safely tucked into a skirt or shirt. Empty arms are sad arms.

She’s tired too. We’ve been home just a ½ hour, and she followed me into the office as usual. But she’s tucked in a tight circle, nose to tail, on her bed, next to my feet, unable to stay awake one more second. Working is hard work, she says, with a slight sigh.

The backyard out my office window is verdant and lush, taller every day. In July, most of the plants will be 3 feet or taller, prairie land out there. The sun is setting. I am trying to stay vertical as long as possible. As soon as I hit the couch, it’s over. It’s such a lovely nest, I may not leave it til tomorrow.

I hate to get up to go outside because Tiny Dog will rouse and follow me out, when she so clearly is exhausted. Bless that itchy mess of a 6 pound thing. Her allergies are flaring and I am failing to nip them 100%. Skin things are never 100%, here or at work. It’s pushing that rock up the hill, in hopes that it stays up there, even for a little bit.

Or I could lie down next to Tiny Dog on her itsy bed, which I am sure she’d like. She’s always up for company, especially if you are soft and warm.