Recently Daddy read an article about productivity and he decided to conduct some research on his own. Since I’m almost the only one who is willing to be involved with his silliness, he immediately provided me with this questionnaire:
How much time do you spend sleeping every day?
How much time do you spend eating every day?
How much time do you spend actively moving every day?
How much time do you spend standing every day?
How much time do you spend sitting every day?
Provide details to each answer if you believe it will provide a clearer picture of the time you spend each day.
I know that all of you detest getting surveys like this. Yes, they are very simple questions but I live my life with a lot of nuance. And with nuance comes the opportunity to bring clarity. But it also brings the opportunity to mess with Daddy who obviously isn’t being productive by doing this research.
I did a quick estimate of my average day and came up with this:
Sleep: 12-14 hours a day
Eat: 30 minutes a day
Actively moving: Trick question. If you’re moving, you’re active. I move even when I’m asleep. I breathe in and out. I stretch. So, 24 hours a day.
Standing: I usually stand while I eat. So, 30 minutes plus another 30 minutes for peeping through the fence at my neighbor, Millie. One hour.
Sitting: I don’t really have a conscious awareness of sitting. Except when we are on a walk. After crossing a busy street, if I am a good girl, Daddy asks me to sit and gives me a treat. So, 15 seconds x 2 — because we have to cross the same street when we’re going home. 30 seconds.
Details: I particularly detest thought questions like this. Even Daddy admits that these types of questions are designed by teachers who want to find a way to use their red pens.123
I did use the empty space in #6. I wrote:
Sometimes, I sit.
I really don’t know exactly when I sit or where or why or for how long. But sitting is the perfect posture for some of my more intense thinking sessions. And I think a lot.
You may know that I am mostly Siberian Husky. And you may also know how much fun Siberian Huskies are. But that comes at a price for our humans.
I find it amusing to get on Daddy’s computer from time to time. Mostly, I just go in and change the settings. Although I have learned that it upsets him when I switch the default language to Mandarin Chinese.
I like to read articles about Huskies and to watch funny videos about our antics. However, I’m not a copycat. Not a feline bone in my body. I come up with my own ideas about bringing mirth to those around me. I’d put them on YouTube but I’ve not mastered how to swipe left or write on the phone’s camera settings to make a video.
Anyway, I came across this question in one of my browser4 searches:
How long can you leave a Husky alone?
Well, the obvious answer is that you shouldn’t ever leave us alone. We crave human contact. Which is why we are really poor watch dogs. Any human is a friend as far as we are concerned. But the more serious answers I read said that a very well-trained Husky might be fine if left alone for 8 hours. That is a very long time for any Husky to be good, by the way. They said that a well-adjusted Husky is probably fine for up to three hours. With a footnote that indicated that most Huskies were best managed with hourly contact.
I provided you with that intense research because I think you should know that there is a constant battle in a Husky’s brain whether to be calm or whether to create mayhem.
Momma and Daddy prefer for me to be calm. Mayhem is a lot of work and I’ve found Momma and Daddy don’t reward me with a lot of points for mayhem creativity. So . . .
Sometimes, I sit.
I breathe deeply. I contemplate my surroundings and occasionally snap at a fly or mosquito. I watch my neighbors through the fence. I stare off into the distance and drive Daddy crazy trying to figure out what I’m staring at.
Sometimes, I just sit. And use the time to be thankful, to consider how much I love my humans, and to wish good things for all living things. Although, squirrels thrive on terror and we should honor their wishes.
You should try it. Be creative. Be still. Be alive!
Daddy once told me about an English class he took in college and a section that was focused on poetry. Every class period, he was assigned a poem and was told to do a short summary of what the poem meant to him. When he had a poem about birds finding something to eat, he answered “birds in search of food.” Big red writing followed, “This is obviously about the world crisis in hunger among children.” When he had a poem about sitting by a small mountain stream, he wrote “This is obviously about how life rushes past us and we are left to be the people we are with dreams of what we could be.” Big red writing followed. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why can’t a poem simply be about what it says it’s about?”
I think that the problem is that teachers are provided with too many red pens. This seems to be a case of over-regulation by the state legislators who think they know about education even though they apparently all received poor grades in civics.
I curl up by Daddy when he reads sometimes. And he reads poetry occasionally. But he has confided that he would never ever share his opinion of a poem’s meaning again.
By the way, I’m working on a new browser for my fellow dog pals that features our perspectives and interests. I’m calling it “Bowser.”
I remember an episode of "Here’s Lucy" starring Lucille Ball. She like this fellow and made him a red sweater. Turns out, he hated red because of all the red ink on his schoolwork when he was growing up. Maybe teachers should use another color.
My word! I think I had the same teacher for my poetry classes! A book could have been published with all the red-pencilled comments she made on my papers.