Monday, April 13, 2009

Does my dog know it’s Saturday?

Both my husband and I occasionally work Saturdays.
It’s not the norm for us, but happens usually once every month and a half or so.
This weekend, we both worked Saturday. Which, by the way, made it feel like there was no weekend at all. We went from working on Saturday to sleeping to cooking on Sunday to eating with family and back to sleeping again.
Anyhow, I’ve always wondered what dogs know about our schedule.
From what I’ve learned, dogs live in the moment. They don’t think ahead, they don’t analyze. They are simply focused in the present.
Going off that theory, dogs should have only a minimal understanding of our schedules.
When I get up in the morning and the sky is gray and I rush around, are those signals to my dog that I’ll be leaving soon?
And when I sleep in until the sun is centered high in the sky, are those signals that I’ll be hanging out at the house?
Based on how dogs live in the moment, I would think that would be about their greatest understanding of a schedule.
Which means they have no concept that we work five days a week, then are home for two days, then back to work for five.
Sometimes, though, I’m not sure ...
As a calm old dog, there’s not much that gets Sensi riled up anymore. When we get home, he wags his tail and stands at our feet, smiling and licking our hands. He might grab a toy or ask for dinner, but generally speaking, he welcomes us quietly and then goes back to his business of finding the most comfortable and available spot in the house to sleep.
On Saturday, Brent was gone until about 6:30 p.m. and I, having a little Easter grocery shopping to do on my way home, didn’t walk in the door until about 8:30 p.m.
Brent had fed Sensi and let him out and was finishing up his paperwork when I got home. Sensi was sitting beside Brent on the couch, leaning on his shoulder.
And then I sat down. Sensi moved over, practically sitting on top of me and giving me what we call the, “Sensi hug.”
This is where he sits in front of us, scooting as close as possible to us, and resting his head on our shoulder. And he didn’t want to move. I must’ve hugged him for ten minutes.
For the rest of the evening, he stuck to us like glue.
He was so needy for attention, and it’s not as if he acts this way every day that we’re gone for hours at work.
So it made me wonder, did he realize it was a Saturday and we were supposed to be home all day with him?
Probably not. But maybe.

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