Doggy tales ~ for Sadie.

Most people start the day with a cup of tea. I start the day trying to coax my three-legged dog from her bed. My other two dogs scoot from the utility as soon as I open the back door, desperate to do their ablutions come shine or rain. Sadie looks at me as if I've parted company with my brain. "You want me to go out there?” Her incredulous gaze glides to the door wide-open behind me ~ through which a chill winter wind blows ~ and then, unimpressed, back to me. “In this? Yes, right. Dream on."
Thus, begins the ritual. "Come on, sweetie," I enthuse, "wee-wee."
The dog rests her head on her front paw (one of) and rolls her eyes.
"Sade, come on babe," I coo, jiggling up and down and clapping my hands excitedly. "Out we go."
Sadie yawns.
"Oh, hon," I drop down on all fours and blink worriedly into her eyes, "don't you want to?"
No. She closes her eyes. You go.
"Sweetheart,” I shuffle closer, my scantily-clad posterior now uncomfortably exposed to a blustery North gale, "we have to have a wee wee, don't we, or we might do it on the floor?"
Apparently not. The dog doesn't budge. Assertion, I think, is called for. "Sade!" I command, scrambling to my feet. "Out! Now!"
I point, unflinching.
The dog lies, unflinching.
“Aw, Sade…” I sigh heavily.
Sadie sighs resignedly, grunts out a grumble and… Yesss! She's up. She's hopping. "Good, girl, baby. Well done!"
Relieved, I skirt around her to heave her hindquarters out after her front end, and...
"Morning," says my neighbour, peering apprehensively through the foliage at the back garden fence. “I was hoping I might see you.”
Oh… myGOD! He has seen me! Bits of me that should never, ever, be seen. Not even in the dark under a duvet. I’ve practically mooned him.
He smiles, uncertain, his eyes fixed on my breast-flattening, stain-splotched vest. “I was wondering whether you, er, fancied—"
“Morning,” I trill merrily over him, and slam the door post-haste.
Fancied…? Fancied what? I muse heading fast for the stairs in hopes of making myself more presentable. A head transplant should do it.
Hmm? He's not bad looking, you know, that neighbour.

Sadie’s Tip of the Week:

A man in the hand is worth two in the bushes.

Ahem, no, Sade, not that one.
No? Oh. Sadie knits her brow. Ahhh, right, yes, got it. Here we go…

Don’t live to please other people. In the wise words of Olin Miller, “We probably wouldn't worry about what people think of us if we could know how seldom they do”.