A Lesson From Hanging out with Zoe

The scent of an excellent Italian red sauce wanders through the house.  Meatballs are simmering in the sauce.  Water for linguine is trying to boil.  And I am about to listen to The PBS News Hour.

I love when the scent of a good meal permeates the atmosphere of the house.  When people walk in & are either immediately hungry or ask what I am cooking.

It is the Wednesday after another weekend of hosting my sister Janet’s dog Zoe.

Zoe is a rescue dog, a female Cairn terrier.  She has proven herself a stress free & welcome guest.

We go on walks together & she always finds her way into a space next to me to sleep.

Zoe is not a talker like my beloved wire haired dachshund mix Eli.  She does not bark when she needs to go outside. 

In her defense, Zoe is accustomed to a doggie door.  Accustomed to wandering in her territory at will.  As are most of us.

On her first visit with us, I let Zoe have free reign in our back yard because Eli never got out.  I was convinced there were no exits from which Zoe could escape.

I was wrong.  She found an exit – I was in a panic.  Zoe was a guest for less than two hours & I lost her. 

I was an irresponsible dog sitter.  I failed my sister’s trust.

Fifteen minutes later, Zoe returned – traipsing up my neighbor Juta’s sidewalk as I asked if Juta had seen her. 

Looking as if she had just been out for a stroll, Zoe came to me when I called her name.  And I explained to her she no longer had free reign.

The very first time I knew I was missing Zoe’s signals on when she wanted to go outside to take care of business, she left a very small turd by the back door.  Not the mother lode, just a wee bit.

I knew I was still missing the signals when Zoe gave up subtle hints & left all her lode by the back door.

So I observed & finally understood that Zoe staring at the back door meant she needed to go outside.

I have been reminded by Zoe, a quiet little being, how essential it is to listen & observe.

Sometimes it is not enough or efficient to wait for verbal requests.

Unless you are willing to clean up the shitty aftermath.

Meanwhile, I have created the moistest, most tender meatballs of my forty years of cooking.  Thank you, Mario Batali.