Please Alert the Dogs.

There comes a moment in every woman’s life when she decides to leave the house wearing actual clothes.

Not the good pajamas. Not the leggings that have witnessed three sewing projects and a minor emotional event. An outfit. With earrings.

Naturally, the dogs consider this suspicious.

The Yorkie spots the handbag first. His ears go up like he’s receiving classified information.

The Maltipoo watches me put on shoes and immediately assumes we are all going somewhere. Apparently, my ability to operate a doorknob makes me their transportation department.

I explain that I have a few things to do.

They would like a detailed itinerary.

Getting ready is its own outing

When I was younger, leaving the house involved grabbing my keys.

Now it involves finding my glasses so I can locate my phone, using my phone to check the weather, and discovering that the coat I want is under something I promised myself I would put away yesterday.

Then there’s the handbag.

Some women carry a lipstick and a wallet. I carry receipts from businesses I no longer remember visiting, a pen that doesn’t work, and enough miscellaneous objects to open a very disappointing thrift store.

Somewhere at the bottom are my keys.

I can hear them. We have not made visual contact.

The seating committee files an objection

The boys follow me from room to room while I gather my belongings.

The Yorkie supervises. The Maltipoo provides emotional pressure.

Neither has offered to help find the keys.

The moment I put my handbag down, someone investigates it. I appreciate the thoroughness, but unless one of them discovers my missing lip balm, this inspection is delaying departure.

I tell them, “I’ll be back.”

The Yorkie looks toward the treat jar.

At last. A negotiation we both understand.

There is always one last thing

Just as I reach the door, I remember something.

A light. A package. Something I meant to bring with me.

Back through the house I go, still wearing my coat, getting progressively warmer and less pleasant.

This is when I catch sight of a piece of fabric.

Oh, that would make a beautiful little jacket.

I stand there considering sleeve options while my handbag slides off my shoulder.

The dogs sit down. They’ve seen this part before.

Out the door, eventually

Eventually, I leave.

Earrings on. Keys located. Dogs compensated for the inconvenience.

And once I’m outside, the cool air feels lovely. There’s a whole world beyond the sewing room, the coffee pot, and whatever I was supposed to finish before lunch.

I might even enjoy being out.

Of course, halfway down the road I’ll wonder whether I turned off the iron.

The iron I haven’t used today.

If you see a woman sitting in her car, staring thoughtfully into the distance, she may be having a peaceful moment.

Or she may be mentally retracing every electrical appliance in her house.

Give her a minute.

~with love, Bella