I often write about my life with my dog, Jernee. Emily Friedel calls them “The Jernee Chronicles.” I think that properly dubs them for exactly what they are, chronicles. You can explore them here, here, here, here, & here.
This morning, I do not know what it was, but I could not will myself out of bed no matter how hard I tried. And, when I finally did succumb to the sting of waking up, my legs were lead. They were so heavy, I felt as though staying in bed was the best decision, however, Jernee thought differently.
Jernee was already stirring about in her cage, awaiting my footsteps.
I gathered myself, took a little bird-bath, brushed my teeth, made the bed, then set the Little Monster free. She too had been resting hard, bed-head said so.
Thinking I had disturbed her beauty rest, I calmly asked her, “are you ready for a walk, Jernee?” She sniffed a good sniff, then licked the tip of her nose (this is such an amazing thing to me), and shook her little bed-head. I assumed that to be a yes, and off we were.
In less than ten minutes, she found the perfect spot, investigated its worthiness, then laid her burdens down. YES! I do not have to be out here in the blazing hot sun much longer. Just on principle, I walked her to the end of the block, then we casually turned around.
As we headed down the hill toward my apartment complex, I heard someone, a woman, shout, “NADINE!” I looked to my right, I nodded, offering her an acknowledgement that said, “I’m not Nadine.” Jernee trotted alongside me, happy to keep my pace, and the woman shouted again, this time with an attitude that said, “how dare you ignore me.”
Now, being the calm person that I am, I knew this lady KNEW I was not Nadine. Who is Nadine and why do I look like her? Is she my doppelganger? Does she too have a dog that looks like Jernee? Does Nadine even have a dog? At this point, I found it best for me to make this woman fully aware of who I was not.
“I am NOT Nadine.”
Jernee looked at the woman a mere 1,000 feet away, and gave her a “That’s Right” nod, and again, we were off. All I could think as we came closer to home was, “Wow. Who is this Nadine? Would she be out on this block walking her dog too at 8:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning? Who was that lady shouting at me?”
I shrugged it off and we made it back home to the fresh scent of hazelnut cream, and vanilla sea candles. I decided on a breakfast of turkey bacon, scrambled eggs, yogurt, and coffee. Jernee heard the sound of the bacon packaging and decided she’d wait on that too.
So, breakfast was served and I am still not Nadine.
Author’s Note: weekend walks with the Little Monster are eye-openers; I am grateful for that time spent with her. She totally owns the walk though, all eyes are usually on her. ALWAYS.