Every Other Monday Morning

is trash and recycling day,
and it’s quite early,
and I am the only one obligated to be up by a certain time but not out the door,
so the trash and recycling are my job.

I cheat and drive the bins up the steep drive.

But going outdoors means that the dogs wish to get involved,
but usually the car is too packed with bins for them to be inside the car,
but I would be frozen with worry that they were too close to the car to safely run along beside it,
but this week there was room.

What I am trying to say is that Sgiobalta knows that she can no longer jump up into the back seat and she waits patiently for me to lift her.
What I am trying to say is that she even knows that she can no longer hop down from the back seat
and she waited for me to lift her,
and I scooped up by the rough and the hips.

She laid her head trustingly on my shoulder and sighed a memory-filled sigh of resignation.