Dog Days

As long suffering readers of these Tuesday musings will allow, nothing gives me greater pleasure than my morning perambulations with my 35-pound outrageous ball of fluff terrier mix. Langley never met a stranger. He unabashedly engages with any and every dog he chances upon.  His entire quivering body exudes, "Wanna frolic"? Invariably a rough-and-tumble game of chase ensues. Langley can change direction three times in under a second. When he and his new playmate have romped themselves into oblivion, they lie exhausted on their backs--contentedly chomping on one another's heads.

What could be more joyful then watching canine exuberance? When could there be a better time for me to disengage from my quotidian roles? Couldn't I just turn off the "monkey chatter" in my brain and revel in the spectacle of unbridled speed and frolic? Langley certainly seems unencumbered by unwanted thoughts. He seems able to focus exclusively on instantaneously transporting himself out of the way so that pursuing dogs crash resoundingly into fences.

Attached to the other end of the leash yesterday morning was a thirty-something woman. Of course we got to chatting as our dogs gamboled at light speed across the open field.

"I have another dog at home," she mentioned. "He just turned 93, so he can't run as much anymore."

"Ninety-one," I blurted out. She stared at me blankly. I stumbled on. "93 is not a multiple of seven. Seven dog years times 13 years would be 91. Not 93."

"Nobody likes the math thing" as my younger daughter has frequently reminded me. Why can't I just enjoy a Chelsea Morning rather than instructing a stranger on the seven times tables?

I have enough social skills not to point out an unattractive outfit. Why is it that I have no filters when it comes to arithmetic errors?

Like my neighbor, your children would probably appreciate an occasional break from correction and instruction. Yes, they need to know when to use who and whom. But no, they probably don't need to know the difference between nominative and objective case pronouns today.

By focusing on the relationship rather than the academics, your children are more likely to be open to listening to you about that which is important: your knowledge, your values, your beliefs--and, when the time is right, the seven times tables.

In the meantime, Langley has forgiven my social gaffe and I'm going to forgive myself as well. Tomorrow, I'm just going to revel in the accelerating shimmering dogs as they speed by in all directions at once. I'm going to avoid doing the math thing until at least noon.