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He’s a projecting, guitar playing, good housekeeping kind of guy.

I wouldn’t call myself a slob, there’s just always something better to do other than clean. I’m a good paper towel cleaner upper. I can wipe up the kitchen floor with a single section.

He’s also my husband and works full time. “Why doesn’t he retire?” friends ask. He loves to work. So do I. We’re a good pair and we compliment each other.

“It comes with the package,” my brother used to say about accepting the differences between two spouses. More specifically, about me back in the day when I spent more than Todd appreciated. But those days are over.

When we hear the engine of Todd’s little red car pull into the driveway, I know I have to work at breakneck speed to empty the litter box, sweep the floor, unload the dishwasher and straighten the newspapers. But I do, before I say, “Hi, honey!”

I can also make it appear that I have dinner in the works, not that he really minds if I don’t. “I can have pizza,” he’ll say.

He knows I’m a writer and respects my ways. (Mostly.)

I quickly close the computer, slip into my Converse while Fannie makes a run for her stuffed bear. Then, if I don’t make it in time to let her out, she sits stock-still at the door with little whimpers escaping. Todd’s the best “toy-tossing” pal ever and she’s ready for him with her “Home Sweet Home!” welcome.

This week I slipped out the front door as Todd entered the back to walk Fannie around the block. “Hi sweetheart! Be right back!” I say, wondering, where does the time go?

Fannie’s dismayed and ready to play but out the door we go, bear and all.

“Cute!” A neighbor comments from her porch. “It’s not often you see a dog walking her bear.”

“She’s ready to play. She’s been waiting all day!”

And the moral of the story?

Dogs are great at reminding us how to prioritize our time, how to show proper affection, and how to give a good greeting. They remind us how much we are loved and how to show it.

But where does the time go?

“Fannie!” Todd welcomes us from the screen door when we return from the walk. “Did she carry that bear the whole way?“

“Yes, she’s ready to play!”

“Did you water outside?” he asks.

“Not yet…” Where does the time go?

“I can have pizza,” he says tossing the bear across the room and Fannie catches it. “Yay!” we both say.

“Dinner’s almost ready…!” I’m a wiz in the kitchen where I head to pour wine into two glasses.

The next day I promise myself to do better, but at 5:21 I say, “Where does the time go?”, snap my laptop shut and unload the dishwasher at breakneck speed, just as we hear the engine of his little red car pull in…

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