Barking Dogs

For some reason the dogs won't stop barking this morning.  They are outside dogs and the self-declared guardians of our backyard.  I've no idea what got them started and a check outside wasn't particularly illuminating since the sun hasn't yet risen.  They generally respond to a whistle and admonition to be quiet, but this morning their memory of the rebuke lasted less than 30 seconds and they returned to their chorus.

Most days it doesn't bother me that they want to greet the morning, complain about the cat that was prowling the neighborhood the night before, or send unheeded messages to the opossum that partook of their dog food during the dark hours, but Saturdays are a day that many like to "sleep in" and I hate for my dogs to be the reason for the undesired interruption of the neighbor's slothfulness.  In spite of contradictory evidence, there is a streak of compassion that runs in my blood.

My early rising isn't so much a habit as it is a conviction.  I have chosen to discipline myself to a somewhat regular start to my day because the early hours are my most productive.  I find that work completed later in the day is often less than my best although I believe at the time that it is at the same standard as I self-impose at all other times.  However, often upon review the next day, I find it to be mistake-ridden and not what I would desire and find myself correcting errors that seem to creep in unbidden.

Interruption of my routine sometimes makes me grouchy.  I recognize it when it occurs and attempt mitigation in the form of a mental re-set, however it often catches me unaware and I respond uncharacteristically to some comment or action that doesn't fit my expectations.  That admission is revealing of the fact that leaving me alone is frequently the best course when I am wandering upon higher ground and out of the ruts that provide comfort to my existence.  Higher ground, for me, may merely be a perception that I am seeking a better path when in fact I am wandering in the wilderness.  Oh, well.

Ruts -- routine -- can be important.  The familiar provides comfort as we find ourselves spinning the gerbil wheel that comprises most days.  It is the music in our headphones as we jog the same paths, pound the same treadmill, or drink from the same coffee cup.  It is the diversion from a realization that progress is illusive and without change, we merely exist.

Change on the other hand is disruptive.  It is a "pied piper" that draws us onward into the new and unknown.  Once we are upon that path we no longer desire the distraction of the music in our ears, but we are focused on moving forward.  We desire companions upon the path of progress, not those who would take us comfortably back into our well-worn and ever deepening ruts.  Again, sometimes it is best to just let me be, lost in my delusional mental fog, for mornings are my "thinking" time.

Barking dogs are noise to be ignored.