When it's just anita

When It’s Just Anita, a very short story  revised 11.09

In mid-October, Lia wakes up with the sound of birds in the trees.  The sun has not come up yet.  Lia’s walk will have to wait; she still has things to do.  She goes outside through her doggie door, rubber edges flapping against metal and she’s pretty sure that noise will get Anita stirring.  Once movement begins under the bedcovers, Lia plops down against the bed with a huge sigh, wagging her tail, banging against the bedframe.  More noise.  Okay, that works because the stirrings under the bedcovers become real movements as Anita stretches her legs and arms before swinging them to the side of the bed.  Up!  First step of success for Lia in the day.

But now, more waiting.  Unlike when Mark is home.  When he is home, he swiftly takes a shower, dresses and opens the garage door so the real highlight of the day—a walk—can begin.  It takes more time and waiting with just Anita.  When it’s just Anita, Lia has to settle in on the couch while tea is heated in the microwave and the first pages of the newspaper are read before real action begins.  When it’s just Anita, after these apparently routine but meaningless movements take place, Lia begins to pant with optimistic hope.  Anita is moving back into the bedroom area, she is getting underwear out of the drawer and putting them on.  Next, casual clothes for walking come out of the closet.  Anita puts on sunscreen lotion and brushes her hair before picking up her purse. 

Now Lia begins to dance.  With her 10 year old legs it isn’t a lively dance, but it’s the fastest she will move all day.  She does a couple of remember-how-to-do-this leaps into the air as she turns, nose upright, smelling the scent of the desert even before the front door opens.  Ah, it opens, morning light shining on the dust bunnies in the hallway.  When it’s just Anita, before Lia can bound out the door and hobble her way into the car, Anita goes first, making sure no traffic of cars or people can distract Lia’s pathway, and lead, possibly, into an Alpha dog encounter.  Today, the coast is clear, the car door is opened and whoosh—Lia bounds out, hunkers her legs into launch position and pushes off into the car.  Mission accomplished.  Now it’s but a quick drive to the desert park where hummingbird sounds will soften Anita’s face into early morning bliss and Lia can take as much time as she needs to smell the bushes and branches. 
When it’s just Anita, there is a tradeoff:  it takes longer to get there but, once there, no rush to finish the walk and get to an office.  For Lia, it’s an adjustment she is willing to make.