For purposeful procrastination, nothing tops a dog. Take this morning, for example — it’s ten o’clock and, for hours, I’ve managed to put off writing .
First, Gambit and I had to take a three-mile walk. A Terrier, after all, requires exercise. How else can he convert high energy into the calm companionship I need by my side when I finally, as my mother used to say, “buckle down to work?”
Next, I took our elderly Standard Schnauzer for his walk, shorter in length, but about as long in time, given the pace that Tycho’s ancient dignity requires. When we returned, it was time to serve them breakfast.
Since I was engaged in dog duties anyway, I decided to treat them to a little brushing before depositing them on the lawn, where Tycho stretched out to warm his old bones in the sunshine, and Gambit stood Squirrel Watch in his exercise pen. READ MORE