It’s Monday, the one day of the week that gets no love and has posters and t-shirts dedicated to hating it and loving Friday. I feel bad for poor Monday, I feel badly that it is odious in nature, no one looks forward to it but they would be the first ones to complain if they didn’t live to see it. (Some of ya’ll will get that one on your way home)
When my Mondays are endless, my workload is difficult to balance and I literally want to run somewhere and hide, there is a face that I know will make it all better… Tyson! ( My dog, not the actual boxer… Tyson’s face ( the boxer) would make small children cry). My friends, and my immediate family, know how I absolutely LOVE my dog! Now, I don’t dress him in cloths or hats or anything like that but I do lavish attention and money on him. Tyson is a cheap date on any night of the week, give him an old dish towel or a sock and he is pure entertainment for at least 2 hours that just cost you less than a dollar! Animals, whether cats, dogs, ferrets ( I so totally want one but my husband vehemently told me no) or hamsters, are creatures that require our care, but also give back so much more than we could really ever hope for.
Tyson is a strange creature in that he has a personality and insight that most humans lack and yet has these really weirdo doggy tendencies. I was in the hospital late last year for nearly 3 weeks, fighting for my life, so of course I wasn’t home at all. Tyson is and has been used to seeing me every day, even though I know that he has no real concept of time. When I did finally come home, my husband put me to bed and let Tyson out of his crate. This dog lost his ever-loving mind! He ran from the front of the apartment to the master bedroom, jumped up on the bed ( a four-poster king that even I have to climb up into), ran in a circle on the bed, jumped off and ran back the way he came! Mind you Ty is no Pug or Jack Rus! Robert and I just sat/stood there with our mouths open, blinking because there were no words to express how nutzo Ty really is. Ty tears up paper (he shredded an entire roll of toilet paper one day), crawls on his belly underneath our bed and will refuse to come out, he pulls the stuffing out of every toy he has ever owned ( but amazingly doesn’t eat any of it) and places it neatly in little piles on the rug daring you to touch it, he LOVES ice cubes and the occasional french fry. And he is a sock thief! Ty will pull the socks right off your feet while you are sitting anywhere, play with them and then they disappear… ( We found his hoard while cleaning under the bed one weekend)
He is mommy’s “Noonie”, daddy’s “Butt Boy” ( due to him wagging his tail so hard that his entire butt moves) and the more often called than not, “Oye, Dog!” He can be a holy terror but when you have a really crappy day, when nothing seems to go right, when everyone is down on you, you can always depend on Tyson to be overjoyed to see you and right then and there, you are the only thing that matters in his life… with the exception of his rawhide bone.