Open the Door, Close the Door, Open the Door. . .

close the door, and so it goes. I am in the morning room with my coffee, two dogs and two cats. Now we have 1 dog and 2 cats. No dogs, 1 cat. In and out they go.

“Oh mom, I need to go chase the squirrel!”

“Oh mom, I saved you from the squirrel. I need to come in and get praised.”

“Oh mom, the leaf wiggled, I must go check it.”

“Oh mom, my sister is out, I need to be with her.”

“Oh mom, I’ve been out for 30 seconds, I need to come in.”

“Oh mom, my sister didn’t come in, I need to go get her.”

“Oh mom” says Lily, “I’ve been in and had breakfast, now I need out again. NOW!”

And on and on. Because my girls have me well-trained. I know to sit in the chair near the door so that I can interrupt my morning checking the weather, checking Facebook, reading my email, reading my blogs, drinking my coffee to let them out. And in. And out. A pet door, you say? But I need to maintain a modicum of control. Or at least to maintain the illusion that I have some control.

In the moments that I am not required to either open or close the door, I see out the window to the southeast that there is a ferocious war being waged over possession of the bird house out there. The one with the camera in it. A pair of swallows has signed the lease for that house and a second pair seems to think it should belong to them. I must check later this morning to see if perhaps there are eggs in that house requiring such passionate defense.

I see water droplets glistening on the lilac bush to the northeast, the bush that is now mostly in the shade with just enough sun hitting it to make those droplets sparkle as the breeze causes the leaves to sway.

I see one of the bluebirds sitting atop the pine just outside the middle, most eastern window. They are easy to spot, the bluebirds, because they like to sit at the very tippy top of things and they have those slightly chubby-looking, rounded tummies. They are not so aerodynamically designed as the swallows.

Outside the south window the purple leaves of the ornamental plum whose blooms have been gone for awhile now dapple the wall next to it with spots of shadow, breaking up the sunlight hitting the window there. Doing the job we intended when we planted it in that nook formed by the outward jut of the morning room. The “wart” on the end of the house, as husband called it when he first saw it. My morning place.

And around all of this, over all of this, is the green of the grass, shrubs and trees and the blue of the sky, punctuated with fluffy white clouds. My world, my peaceful, precious world.

Excuse me now, I must go open the door again.

About Carol

I'm me - nothing unusual, just me. Widowed, 2 grown children who are my best friends, 1 dog, retired, loving being retired. I am woman, I am strong.
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9 Responses to Open the Door, Close the Door, Open the Door. . .

  1. Heather says:

    Ah life with pets. It’s a good thing we love them! Your backyard sounds so relaxing, if not exactly peaceful with the warring birds.


  2. Angelia Sims says:

    Oh man! I TOTALLY get this. In and out……our beautiful, furry, and indecisive friends. It ALWAYS happens when I sit near the back door. 🙂


  3. Lynne Ayers says:

    Sounds like your own Eden, Carol.


  4. Dawn says:

    And this is precisely why I only have one. Cause she’s enough trouble with the in and out and in and out and in…..


  5. What a FUN post! Like yours, because of the never-ending in/out activity of our two girls I asked my husband to pleeeeeeze install a dog door. The ensuing conversation went something like this:

    “Are you out of your cotton picking mind?”

    “Why would you ask me that?”

    “In the event you haven’t noticed, one of our dogs is an Irish Wolfhound, A doggie door for them would also be perfect for human-sized burglars!”

    Ah yes, but they wouldn’t get much, now – would they? She is, after all, an Irish Wolfhound!”


  6. Karma says:

    I’ve often wished for a doggy door! My yo-yo’s are regularly in and out whether I’m near the door or not. And I know it isn’t because they “need” to go out – they are perfectly good left on their own in the house for 8 hours at a time. Funny how we are the so-called “owners” but they have us at their beck and call!


  7. Carol, this is a wonderfully written post that had me smiling and nodding in recognition, and then sighing happily to envision you snug and content in your peaceful wonderful world.


  8. Aren’t our dogs and cats wonderful? lol

    Thanks for letting me camp out in your blog for a little while. I had a great time and tried to leave my campsite as clean as when I arrived. I’ll be back!


    • Carol says:

      Ahh, but it is mine to thank you for coming by for an extended visit. I have loved every moment of it, and hope that you will indeed return again – soon and frequently!


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