Old Faithful

I am grateful to have a job, but I am not grateful for what it has done to my relationship with my little shadow, Oliver. It used to be when I came home from work, my parents would have stories of how Oliver sat at the door for hours, pouting because I was gone. How he just went up to our room and sulked in his bed next to mine. He greeted me with thrilled exuberation and much tail wagging when I returned in the evenings from work.

I do not want my dog depressed, sitting at the door bummed out because I am gone. But, the alternative is that he has adopted my parents as his masters. Particularly my dad. He has become my Dad's shadow; sleeping next to his bed, following him around the house. This is not surprising to me. After all, my parents are now his primary caretakers; letting him out, giving him pats and scratches all day, administering his mid-day meds, and generally loving him. Nevermind the fact that I'm the one who works to buy his kibble (does he think that all-natural stuff grown on trees?), and I'm the one who puts his food out in the morning with his medication inside hotdog and his glucosamine mixed in for his creeky joints. Puppies can me so ungrateful!

The activity in the home and daily routine is a result of my parents' lives now, not mine.  In the evenings, when it's time for bed, Oliver likes to sleep next to my dad. For a while he would start out in my room, but then he would pace around and even go to the door scratching at it incessantly. If I would give up and let him out, he would burst out, tail wagging, "Grampy?!" running to dad's office across the hall, "Graaaaaaaampyyyyyy!?" running upstairs to find him. Then, he'd sleep there next to dad.

Ultimately, I let him do what he wants to. Oliver doesn't ask for much, and if he is more comfortable sleeping up where my dad is, I don't mind if it makes him happy. He's an old man and the height of his day is the beef jerky my Mom gives him, so I'll give him whatever I can to aide in his quality of life.

This weekend my dad left for the cape and I asked that he leave Oliver here with me. Oliver moped for the first day without his grampy, but then, he got over it a bit and started following me around like old times.

Last night was the best. He wandered upstairs like he often does at bedtime. I didn't force him to come back down, even though I knew dad wasn't up there. I went to bed. As I started to nod off, I heard a scratching noise at my door. Could it be? Is it possible he's come back to me?  I got out of bed, convinced I was just hearing things, and opened my door to find him standing there. He walked in and plopped down on his bed. Next to mine. And I liked that very much.