Sometimes I feel like life just isn’t entirely fair to our RoadDog.
Don’t get me wrong, I know Jake has a pretty good life, but I occasionally wonder if he might not be slightly happy to see Monday morning roll around.
Like many couples who work more or less nine-to-five jobs through the week, Steve and I try to pack a lot into our weekends. Whether that’s a lot of time spent riding our motorcycles, completing work around the house, doing a myriad of other things or some combination of it all, we tend to be on the go pretty much all day on Saturday and Sunday. Because we’re away from home so much during the week and Jake is left alone, we try to include him as much as we can on weekends.
This weekend was a good example. Steve and I spent all day Saturday outside working around the house. We would have liked to have been riding, but that giant to-do list reared its ugly, nasty head and we decided to be sensible, responsible homeowners. Ick! Necessary, but ick nonetheless.
Jake was outside with us all day. He watched us pile wood and “helped” in his own special ways (like sneaking off with small sticks, getting his tie-out rope tangled so I could take a break and untangle him — I’m sure you get the idea). Then he “helped” with some painting. At one point, I think it was around 4 p.m., I looked over and our boy was crashed and snoring in the doorway of the garage, close enough to watch what we were doing if only he could have kept his eyes open. After all, he’d also helped me do three loads of laundry that day, going up and down the stairs and out to the deck to the clothesline a number of times. He was tired.
He rested on Saturday evening while we were out, but with Sunday morning came more outside work, which ultimately ended with a soaking wet Jake happy and tired from chasing the spray from the garden hose around the yard. After a brief nap while we bought groceries, he was off in the car with us to have dinner at my parents’ house. That involved walking all four of us, my mom and dad included, around the backyard on different occasions as he mostly sniffed and snuffled all there was to sniff and snuffle. With a full belly from dinner, he then crashed behind their couch where he stayed until we took him home and he then crashed again on our living room floor for the remainder of the evening.
Our RoadDog is such a trooper. He sleeps all week, but when the weekend rolls around he’s ready to go, go, go, whatever we’re doing or wherever we’re going. But on Monday morning, after we leave for work, I think he probably sleeps with a smile on his face.