My Dog is Less Simple Than Your Dog.

Last weekend I broke one of my own rules  and bought a non-food item.

Ok, it was actually 2 non-food items and yeah I’ve broken that rule more than once already anyways but I’ll get to that another day.

Last weekend’s two non-food purchases were: A retractable clothesline & clothes pins.

A whole new world.

Seriously now – I live in Phoenix. There is no reason I can’t hang a few loads out under the cruel desert sun instead of running the dryer for hours each week.

I’ve been thinking and talking about doing line drying since I bought my house, but three years slipped by without a single step in that direction.

And then there I was, at the JC Penny outlet. And there they were, staring up at me.

Take us hoooommmme. We loooove youuuuuu.

Yes that’s right. Clothes lines & pins talk like ghosts.

I was bigtime excited to get all Little House on the Prairie up in this piece, so first thing the next morning I got out my toolkit to affix the line and hook to my patio posts.

My precioussss

Then throughout the day, load by load, I proudly displayed my laundry across the patio. It was mostly towels but I threw a few unmentionables in the mix, just for funsies.

Can you spot the unmentionables? Sexay.

Then I washed all my sweet pup’s toys in the sink and added them to the line.

Extreme colorful cuteness.

When the toys were all dry and with my trusty dog’s supervision, I pulled them from the line, tossed them in a bag and went inside to chat up my two roommates, since – miracle of miracles! – we were all home and awake at the same time.

I set the bag on the floor next to me and told them all about our new life-changing clothesline and the magical drying properties of desert air.

I also announced that if I’m going to live simply, so can the dog. We would no longer be finding Archie’s 9 stuffed little toys strewn throughout the house, because I would now be doling them out one at a time.

No need for this place to look like a damned preschool.

I thought I was very reasonable, logical, and basically the smartest bitch ever, but the girls just giggled and pointed in the general direction of my feet.

Sir Archibald Amos Dog had abandoned the giraffe I’d given him and was taking the rest of his clean toys out of the bag, one by one.

Toyyyys

Simplicity was for the birds. He wanted his stuff.

Now when I notice myself resisting getting rid of something, I think of that moment. On one hand I’m trying to take a back-to-basics approach to life and living. Line drying my clothes. Getting rid of crap I don’t need. Growing my own food.

But if my dog wants all the toys he can get his teeth on, how much more basic an instinct could that be?

Maybe we’re not all just programmed by the media, the magazines, the television.

Maybe it’s just plain natural to want.

I’m still working through my closet, still downsizing and still simplifying. I’m still committed to clearing out the clutter and to actually knowing and using what I own. I’m still reminding myself to enjoy nature more and purchased goods less.

But when I’m plagued by the feeling that it should be easy to get rid of stuff, I remember that wanting to have more is a deep-rooted instinct. That it’s going to be difficult, and I’m not ever going to be a minimalist’s minimalist. I’m simplifying my life, one room at a time, and that is enough.

And sometimes I just need a puppy (& kitty!) break.

Loves!

Bonus tip: Don’t put anything your dog wants in a grocery bag on the floor if you ever hope to use that bag for groceries again.