Archive for Monday, January 22, 2007
Dace Kramer: Going to the dogs
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Steamboat Springs My husband is traveling this week. He traveled last week, too.
When I was younger with children at home (and, I confess, with a different husband), I regarded husbands' traveling schedules as something of a holiday. The kids and I would relax a bit and treat ourselves to evenings of less structured meals, maybe an extra helping of cake and the giggles, and TV programs that didn't involve news and sports. But now, with no kids at home and with a different husband, my marriage is more a partnership; when I am alone at home it is emptier and somehow less delicious. That is why my animals mean so much to me.
Don't get me wrong. Going out alone at 25 below to feed the horses both morning and night (in the dark at both ends) isn't so great. On normal mornings, I am making coffee and breakfast while my husband/partner executes that chore. He tells me it wakes him up. And in the evenings, we go out together and get it done; then come in and while he builds a fire and pours a glass of wine, I get our dinner ready. That is partnership, and we both delight in the domesticity and routine of it.
Yesterday after work, I drove home alone : again. I was home a little earlier than usual and for once, it was not quite dark.
The horses had been far out in the pasture and the dogs were avoiding the cold on their heated pads in the garage. When they all realized it was me driving in the driveway, the horses raced across the snowy field toward the paddock and my crazy-sweet wolfhound raced down the drive to greet the car. They were so glad to see me!
I know my homecoming meant dinner to them, but I like to be depended upon. And there is no describing the depth of my joy when my 13-year old dog, who can barely stand up anymore, hauls his sore old self up to be petted and hugged.
He and I share a profound bond, you see. I rescued him from certain death after his abandonment at a campground in Kentucky when he was barely a year old. And he rescued me after the abandonment I experienced at the demise of my first marriage. For both of us, even though we are older and slower, life certainly looks better from here!
So sometimes, on those bitter nights when my husband is gone and I busy myself with the feeding of the horses and dogs, and making sure the cats are safely tucked in, I wonder what it would be like if it were just me doing these things night after night after night. We know those women - the ones who still do the ranching chores after their husbands are gone.
I am in awe of their strength and their determination to keep the routine going even without their partner. Could I be one of them? If my love and devotion to my animals is any indication, I think so. And if their love and devotion to me is further evidence, I know so.

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