Heavy Dog

Most dogs I know make themselves heavy when they don't want to do something.

Putting Pawley in the bathtub = heavy dog

Carrying Raggs to the house from the yard = heavy dog

Pulling Mille from under a bed, carrying her downstairs, taking her outside to go the bathroom after a thunderstorm = really heavy dog

Toting Snoop (our dog from childhood) upstairs = heavy dog

Carrying Snoop downstairs (with a hand over his eyes so he wouldn't be nervous) = heavy dog

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You know, it's not a bad idea!

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Woman not wanting to leave knitting = heavy woman

Woman binge watching Netflix = heavy woman

Woman puttering in yard = heavy woman

Woman reading in the hammock = heavy woman

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Bill could drag me, but I don't think he could carry me without acquiring a hernia.

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When there are things we don't want to do, but we know we have to do them, I think we all kind of become heavy dogs (or as I say, heavy woman).  I have been trying to identify "those" facets of my life and power through them.  I can't say I'm always successful, but I've had my share of successes in the past week.   I'm walking more.  Drinking more water.  Eating more vegetables.  Eating less sweets.  Reading more.  Asking deeper questions.  Listening more.  Playing more bridge.

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It's Friday night, this "heavy dog" is going to knit and think.  (Oooooooo, and I am going to watch the last four episodes of "Breaking Bad."

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So, pop me with a rolled up newspaper!  Heavy dog!