It was quiet. My daughters and wife were out and about for the day. Our two dogs, Sable and Murphy, were silent… each taking a nap. It was a good time to work on notes for one of my stories in development.
Weekdays are mostly filled with business related projects: books and stories I’m writing for others (ghostwriting) under contract, publishing related projects, tasks and routine administration. Weekends, especially in the morning before everyone else gets up, are perfect for focusing on my stories.
I had just finished seven pages of handwritten notes and set them on the floor next to my chair while I got my laptop and sat back down with it on the lap-desk I use when writing in our family room. I heard a noise. There was a stirring beside me. I felt it brush by like when a gust of wind kicks up suddenly on an otherwise still day and you hear it coming through the trees before you feel it. Something had moved fast and was now headed away from me. What the hell…?
Murphy wanted to play and he had some of my notes in his mouth! He was already down the hallway toward the front door. Setting lap-desk aside I ordered him to stop (which is a 50/50 proposition when he’s moving fast). But this time he did. “Come here, Murphy” (which he usually does). With his mouthful of pieces of paper in his mouth he turned and took a couple of steps closer. “Drop them…” He smiled and they fell to the floor. He sat calmly next to them and watched as I retrieved the notes. I’d swear he was telling me, “I made you get your ass out of that chair didn’t I?”
Notes saved. A little slobbery, but okay. And he did make me get out of that chair. A few minutes later he came over to apologize and see what was going on.