He and I – I and He. That’s all it’s been for two weeks now.
But it’s coming to an end tonight when She Returns.
Don’t get the wrong idea. I like Her. She throws weeds, lets me get dirty and puts an egg on my food in the morning. She’s not putting it over steak tartare or anything, but an egg is an egg and I respect the effort. Plus, She gets just as dirty as me and you got to admire how little she cares. She ain’t twenty, just sayin’.
But He doesn’t know the meaning of rules. I get the BED, for one. I’ve gotten the bed since the moment She left, and if He doesn’t want to sleep on mine tonight He probably better be washing sheets before Her plane gets in. I tried to tell Him that last night – our last night together – as I snuggled down into Her pillow, but he only pulled the pillow closer and fell asleep.
He’s always been a rule breaker, like me. It’s probably why we get each other. Add a little bit of co-habitation in the bed department and even Angelina Jolie couldn’t split us up. He’s breaking rules to bring us closer. It’s like a song or something.
But She won’t even hum it.
She doesn’t get the strong bond created between man and dog when sleeping spaces are shared. Does. Not. Get. It. Maybe she didn’t watch enough dingos on Wild Kingdom when she was a kid. The bond He and I have forged goes beyond time and space.
She says it wouldn’t matter if I were the size of a chihuahua – She wants a strong bond too – and it doesn’t include me. The cats…well…let’s not go there. Let’s just say there are double standards in this house, petism is alive and well, and no one’s marching for my rights anytime soon.
So, She’s back. There will be good things. Like I won’t have to go down to the creek to get water any more, cause She knows what a water bowl is for – and it’s not for collecting bits of lettuce that fall off the counter. Not that lettuce makes any kind of appearance when She’s gone – I’m talking hypothetical lettuce.
I’ll have way more outside time cause evidently She’s back on Her four-hours-at-desk-three-hours-outside routine now that the California sun has re-energized that GenX body of Hers.
We’re a garden team – She and I. I and She. And I guess that counts for something – even if it’s not a friends with benefits situation.
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