Empty Nest Syndrome

Or, what does The Dog do when The People are not home?

I like to think of these few hours a day as "my time," when I am undisturbed by The Felines or The People. There is no one tugging at my ears, no one asking me questions or making me lie down, nothing to interfere with the solitude and peace that I so deserve after hearing Loud Music play all weekend long. Each weekend is spent moving moving moving, guarding, inside - outside - back inside, walks, hikes, uphill, downhill, sit, sit, sit, in the car, out of the car, back in the car, run home, bark at the unusual, ignore the usual, wait for cheese to fall mysteriously to the ground, sleep as I can between the stereo, the television, the phone, the Dustbuster, the comings, the goings, The Felines, and The People just being busy busy busy.

When Monday comes, I pretend to look sad as The Woman leaves the house. I listen for the garage door closing, meaning that The Man has left. His car growls as it moves down the driveway, and slowly the music fades. The door is closed, creating privacy for The Felines downstairs and myself the upstairs.

Solitude.

I have a long drink, and wait. I watch for the sun to rise in the Eastern Window. As it slowly peaks through the backyard woods, I close my eyes and feel its warmth massage my fur. I remain still as it creeps its path through the dining room until it has moved beyond. The morning blessings have been spoken, and I must conduct my rounds.

I travel from room to room, seeking anything unusual or different. A cobweb in the corner The Woman missed while cleaning this weekend. A book left on the table that was supposed to be returned to the library this morning. Another late fee. Mail and coupons piled on the counter from the weekend. Nothing out of the ordinary. I check to see if The People left the bathroom door open. Alas, once more, they remembered to close it. No chewing on the bathmat today.

I check on my rawhide bone. I find my Kong. They are both safe.

I retire to my crate and continue my mediations. The Ying and the Yang of Shiba-ness. The Creation of the World. The place of The Felines in this World.

The sun is now peeking around the southern trees, and I can see the slated shadows dancing on the floor near The Woman's computer. I feel the need to smell. I walk into the bedroom and stick my nose into The Man's sneakers. Ugh, I don't need to smell anything else now. I feel lightheaded. I lay on the carpet near the couch until the feeling passes.

Another drink. I wonder what will be for dinner tonight. I fall asleep dreaming of pizza crusts and chicken pieces.

The sun has now moved to the western window.

When The Woman arrives home, I feign over-enthusasium of her appearance. I am actually happy to see her for she smiles and gives me pets and treats, stating that I am a good boy and that she missed me. The Woman asks me, Did you miss me too?

Yes, for the last hour, I did. I am ready and rested for the chaos again. Where are we going in the car today?



I Am Shiba. I Am Tan, Rested, and Ready.