Reprise

This morning J and I spent a little time working together in a coffee shop we've grown to like a lot. For J, working was analyzing a huge screen of complicated numbers, and for me, it was chatting with friends online. Which could totally lead to employment, who knows, right? Leave me alone. We like this coffee shop because it's low key and comfortable and there's always somewhere to sit. They have free wireless and don't mind if you hang out for a few hours. An added bonus is that they play music that would make you swear you're back in middle school. And I'm pretty sure they're not doing it to be ironic. "Here Comes the Hotstepper" by Ini Kamoze. "Kiss From a Rose" by Seal.

This morning's no exception and we were lucky enough to catch "Hold On" by Wilson Phillips and, of course, I thought about my very favorite memory of that song, and other memories that are warming my heart on this cold morning. My old bedroom, diaries and horseback riding. The best friends I've ever had (and am lucky enough to have, still). New notebooks bought at summer's end and dinner with my family every night. Not being too cool for the pop music station - listening to commercial radio at all - and school dances and passed notes. Frosty mornings in carpool, listening to morning show DJs debate pressing issues, occasional stops at McDonald's for cinnamon rolls and always, always being late for school.

Getting back in touch

This morning, as I was playing with Nora on the floor, I looked over to see that Mina (our 10-pound Miniature Pinscher/Pomeranian mix) was finishing off my coffee. Instead of reacting - getting angry or laughing or anything - I just sighed and said "whatever" and went on with things. Maybe she needed the coffee for the long day of business meetings she had planned, I don't know. Poor Mina used to be kind of a superstar.

She'd often brighten our day with her antics, which were as hilarious as they were maddening. Like the time she ate her weight in taco meat. Or how she'd hide a bunch of granola bars in the laundry basket in case of a global emergency or something. Sometimes my love for her bordered on abusive, like when I'd dress her up in a purple velour track suit, but my love was, no doubt, strong and steady.

Since the baby, Mina's been relegated to less than royal status, understandably. I knew that once Nora was born, the dogs would take a hit, although only a small one, as they will always be an important part of our lives. But over a year later I'm sad to say that I think their quality of life has decreased more than I wanted. It's not that I'm worried about them. They're healthy, have routine medical care, eat well and sleep on soft dog beds. They chase squirrels and go for walks by the water. It's just that I know they need a little more. They need a few more walks and a lot more pats on the head.

Cecilia (our 75-pound pit bull mix) has taken well to Nora's arrival, treating her as she would anybody, as in the dog cannot possibly shower our child with enough affection. Ceece's love runs so deep that I think, if she could, she'd read Nora stories and put her to bed at night. Since she can't, she licks her from head to toe when we're not looking.

Here's Cecilia with her favorite Labradoodle:

Mina, however, consistently looks at me as though to ask, "This baby is fine, I guess, but when the hell is this charade over?" Her spirit has been slightly squashed and needs reviving.

So I thought I'd pose the question to you, my readers, and ask how you, those with children and without, have fun with your pets. I need a little kickstart to our dog renaissance, and I need a little prodding to take Nora and the dogs on walks together again, despite the circus, and stream of expletives, that ensues. Comments please!