They were dogs–not just any dogs. But, rather were, our two furry children, Max and Maggie. They couldn’t vocalize words, so they expressed their discomposure by whimpering.
Something was up this morning and they sensed it. Whenever suitcases are carried out to the car–somebody is going somewhere. In this case, it was my wife–one of their pet parents.
They’ve moped around all day. I have too, because it’s been a rainy, yucky, day. We got our morning walk in, when the sun shone briefly this morning. They need to be outside wrestling, with each other in the backyard; so they won’t keep me awake tonight. Good–they’re chasing each other through the house. Now, to play referee.
Oddly enough, my wife is gone for a week, to do dog sitting for our daughter’s three dogs. It was too far and inconvenient for the rest of us to go along. So, I’m batching it for a few days. Not really dog sitting for me–because Max and Maggie will help keep me company.
I found the term “Batching it” rather odd when I was younger. It seemed archaic, and of my father’s generation. Another favorite expression of his, was “much obliged.” The only other place I ever heard “much obliged” was on the Andy Griffith Show. I guess that’s pretty good company.