My writing life was just about perfect. It had taken me years to get it to that point. I had a large chunk of time to write while my daughters were at school, and in those early morning hours I'm most focused. I had convinced the important people in my life not to call during that time because I was writing. I had pulled back from much of the school volunteering that can take over a parent's life. I was working toward a December 31st deadline on a first novel contest.
And then we rescued a little dog. With a lotta bark.
"It will take time for Fritz to adjust," we told our girls.
Well, he's adjusted fine. It's me who hasn't. I miss those uninterrupted hours of writing. I miss the satisfaction of finishing a piece. Frankly, I miss my attention span. I have to find a new way to write. A way to write when the dog doesn't want me to.
There is an hour or two throughout the day when Fritz settles down and naps in the sun, and as it happens, the spot of sun is next to my computer. I moved his bed there, and I started this blog. When I break, we go for a walk.
So, here I am, a writer with my dog. And we'll get it right, one of these days.