The other night, I was telling my mother about Lucy and how sometimes she drools. She's not a big drooler, but if there's something that smells great on our plates, or if we've gone for a long walk, she does drool. Anyway, I was telling her the other night that we got home from what was practically a marathon around the neighborhood, both Lucy and her "hooman" were a bit on the winded side. Not only were we winded, but Lucy was drooling (I of course, wasn't!). And her first order of business when we made it into the foyer, was to dispose of the drool. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen. At the time it never occurred to me that there was drool flying all over my freshly scrubbed floors, or attaching itself to my newly painted walls. It wasn't until my mother suggested it that I even thought about it.
Frankly, it just didn't matter. It can be scrubbed off, right? I got so much joy, and a great big chuckle out of that drool flying all over our foyer. Lucy just looked so adorable shaking off all of that drool.
This morning when Lucy and I made our first trip outside, I heard sprinklers running. The consequences of those running sprinklers didn't quite register right then. I had just woken up, and I hadn't had so much as a sip of coffee.
Lucy seemed anxious to get the fence, and I walked out into the yard with her. I shouldn't have been surprised to see a huge puddle of water- at least 8 inches deep. And I wasn't surprised when my little boxer decided to stick the better 1/2 of her little body in that muddy water.
I suppose I should have been thinking "MUD! Oh, no", but it never crossed my mind. Lucy had a blast, and I made no moves to stop her.
And when Lucy and I crossed the porch and stepped into the living room, I didn't freak out at the muddy little paw prints going across my living room floor. And I laughed when she made her way across the kitchen floor leaving her autograph everywhere.
I probably should have at least gasped when Lucy made her way across the kitchen floor and decided that my brand new Oriental rug was the perfect place to clean off. But, somehow I saw it coming, and instead of gasping, rolling my eyes, or even attempting to move Lucy, I reached for the camera. I guess Lucy's not the only one that's predictable.
I sent Rob the picture of little Lucy, muddy and covered in paint sitting on our new rug. I'm sure that he was a little shocked that I was reaching for the camera instead of freaking out.
... But then, I've come a long way. Muddy paw prints on my kitchen floor make me smile. I don't mind the boxer art on my car windows. It doesn't phase me one bit that I usually roll over in the middle of the night and find my toe stuck in a soup bone. It's amazing that one little 65 pound boxer puppy has turned my life around for the better in 10 months!