When I’d rather be with my dogs than people

I went to a Child Trauma and Grief Conference today and spent eight hours hearing about, well, childhood trauma and grief. So when I got home you can understand how I would be a tad exhausted and down in the doldrums.

I saddled up the horses (uh, I mean, my dogs) and we went for a walk. As an extra special treat, I downloaded a new book on tape to listen to on our journey. It is an author who also reads his books on tape who has been recommended to me by many, on many different occasions. I figured I would give him a chance. With all ten legs walking, we begin up the hilly hill on our way to the community park.

Let me explain my neighborhood. It is very social. When the weather is nice, you can see neighbors visiting all over the place. Sitting on porches. Waving and yelling salutations by first names. A real Beaver Cleaver kind of place.

I am not that kind of neighbor. I pull in my garage, shut the garage door, only when the garage door is completely shut, then and only then will I get out of my car. I do this just in case someone thought of waving hello to me as I exited my car, they will see any small opportunity quickly extinguished. I’m not an antisocial person, I just like to be social when it’s scheduled and I don’t really enjoy people just “dropping in.” I attribute this to the fact that I spend 12 hours at a time with people just “dropping in.” So I like my alone time.

I don’t know what the neighbors think of me, I am sure they think I’m cruel and heartless. I am hoping my sweet and social hubby (who does know everyone by name…) makes up for my autistic behavior.

The point of my telling you this is that as I am walking the dogs and listening to my new book on tape, I find that my friends were right. This guy is HILARIOUS. And because he is hilarious and because I have spent all day talking about dead and dying children, I am laughing OUT LOUD. I need a release, and this is just what I needed. The entire forty plus minute walk, I am laughing intermittently out loud. Beyond a smirk or a chuckle, BELLY LAUGHING.

So now, I am quite certain, the neighbors have the block gossip confirmed. I am a crazy, antisocial, prone to strange mood shifts and officially, not a good neighbor.

Oh well, that’s kind of true but I still can’t wait for our next walk.