It's Monday morning and I'm tired and aching all over. And sleepy too. Gosh, something is quite wrong with my life. What have I been doing with my weekends?
I think it's all my fault. I just can't sit still and watch the 'imaginary' dust balls roll all over the house. Last night, YK finally told me off.
When I was hanging out laundry to dry at 9.30pm, Rusty waddled over. As he sat watching me with his tail wagging earnestly, I grumbled to YK, "See, Rusty wants me to take him out for a walk again."
YK said, "Maybe he just wants to keep you company? Or he wants a cuddle? I think you're the one who likes the walk. Maybe Rusty doesn't even want it. Just like when I say I like Hokkien mee, it doesn't mean I want to eat it now. But if you insist on giving me a plate, I'll eat it lah."
Well, he has a point. Why must I be so super-ON about everything, from housework to walking the dog? I turned to Rusty and said, "No walk tonight, let's go to sleep!"
He went to bed without a whimper. Technically the kids had already walked him around the farm at my parent's place earlier, so I shouldn't be worried about him peeing at night. Rusty's such a good dog anyway, he holds his bladder until I take him out. Of course it helps that he has an enthusiastic dog owner who never forgets.