By Fruitycake, President and CEO of Doing Business While Wearing a Bow Tie

Before we begin: This is Fruitycake, and I have a little favor to ask. Please don’t wait to join us on Patreon for just $5 a month! You will get our full weekday blogs, audio blogs read by Girl Person and me, and personal updates about our rustico sale and whatever adventure comes next. We are trying to keep our stories going while continuing our mission to Make Rescues The Breed Of Choice! Your membership truly helps us during this uncertain time. We have so many plans for helping rescue dogs, and we would love for you to be part of them. Join us today at www.patreon.com/2travelingdogsrescue. I would personally shake your hand, but I am a dog, and my paw is currently occupied holding a slice of imaginary pizza.

This is Fruitycake. Yesterday, the heavens opened up, the professionals multiplied, Girl Person nearly resigned from the human race, and I realized something very important. If we are going to continue conducting real estate business on this mountain, I am going to need a bow tie. Not just any bow tie. A fruit-patterned executive bow tie. Because apparently, I am the only member of this household who understands how to conduct business and mean business at the same time. I would also like a receptionist, an appointment book, and a reservation system. No reservation? No mountain. No snacks? No meeting. No common sense? Please see yourself out.

At approximately 8:30 yesterday morning, the sky opened up and dumped enough rain on our mountain to make the wild boars consider purchasing beachfront property somewhere else. This was particularly convenient because we were expecting two professional girl persons at the bottom of our path at 9:00. Two women. I had prepared for two girl persons. My imaginary conference room had two chairs, two complimentary biscuits, and one very important dog in charge of security. Luckily, the rain stopped just long enough for Boy Person to head down the mountain. The architect person then texted Girl Person to explain that the other girl person was stuck in traffic because of the rain and suggested perhaps waiting. Unfortunately, Boy Person was already on his way down, and there is no elevator on this mountain. There is barely a reasonable staircase at the end. 

When the architect arrived, she had brought three additional persons. Three! Apparently, this was not an inspection but a convention. I began checking my imaginary reservations book, and I could not find any of their names. I had not authorized a group rate, and I certainly had not approved a buffet. Since the other woman was running late, Girl Person decided that she and I would walk down to join the festivities. I agreed because I am a professional, and professionals must occasionally make appearances. Also, I thought someone might have pizza.

We waited an hour. An entire hour. Do you understand what an hour means to a dog? I could have sniffed four hundred leaves, inspected several suspicious holes, taken a respectable nap, and still had time to complain about the service. Eventually, the missing woman arrived, coughing so much that I wondered whether she had swallowed the thunderstorm on her way up.

Then came the inspection. The persons walked around, pointed at things, discussed things, measured things, and occasionally looked very serious. I tried to participate by sniffing things, but apparently my professional qualifications were not recognized. Excuse me, I have personally inspected every inch of this mountain with my nose. I know which trees have been visited by wild boars, which rocks are popular with lizards, and exactly where the most interesting smells occur after a rainstorm. I am practically a licensed geometra, except I work for pizza and occasionally chase my own tail.

Girl Person was trying very hard to remain pleasant, although I recognized the expression on her face. It is the same one she makes when Boy Person announces that he has checked something fourteen times but would like to check it once more. And then also asks where it is again. Boy Person continued answering questions because apparently he is now the Director of Mountain Transportation and Historical Stone Explanations. Finally, one woman, who clearly possessed the only functioning clock in the entire group, announced that perhaps everyone should leave. I immediately promoted her to Vice President of Common Sense. The rain was threatening to return, and we had been standing around long enough for moss to begin considering us suitable real estate.

I hope everyone made it safely down the mountain before the next rainstorm. I also hope nobody encountered an irritated wild boar, slipped into a bush, or accidentally wandered into one of our old mills and emerged in the year 1678. But I choose to believe they all made it home, enjoyed a nice lunch, and are now preparing a wonderful report that says, “Beautiful property. Excellent dog. Outstanding executive leadership. Please proceed with purchase.”

And now we wait to hear what the buyer thinks. Again. I have discovered that selling a house in this Italy place involves a tremendous amount of waiting, and I am considering filing a formal complaint with the Department of Unnecessary Suspense. There is waiting for appointments, waiting for professionals, waiting for reports, waiting for messages, and waiting to find out whether we should be preparing to move or chopping wood for another winter. The most disturbing part is that nobody has provided a timer. This is not like baking a pizza, where you put it in the oven, wait for the little ding, and know that something magnificent is about to happen. There is no ding for selling a rustico. Just another message requesting another document and possibly a photograph of a stone that has been sitting here minding its own business for four hundred years.

Personally, I think every real estate transaction should come with a reservation and a pizza timer. Fifteen minutes for questions, twenty minutes for inspections, and if nobody has made a decision by then, everyone must go home and eat. I would also require a nonrefundable deposit of one large pizza before anyone is allowed to begin asking questions about drainage.

But yesterday had one more surprise. Another woman contacted Girl Person wanting to see our house that very day. Girl Person politely explained that we have a pending sale and would be happy to arrange a viewing next week if the current sale does not go through. A perfectly reasonable response, in my professional opinion. The woman disagreed and suggested that perhaps we should not have a listing if we were not going to show the property. I nearly dropped my imaginary clipboard. Madam, this is a rustico, not a drive-through restaurant. We do not have a walk-in special. We do not offer mountain-side seating without reservations. And our customer service department is currently closed due to excessive humanity.

This is precisely why I need my executive bow tie. I would have handled the situation professionally. I would have straightened my little fruit-patterned bow tie, cleared my throat, and explained that all appointments must be made in advance, cancellations require twenty-four hours’ notice, and any complaints must be submitted in writing along with a photograph of the complainant holding a pizza. I would then have eaten the photograph if it smelled interesting.

I have decided that yesterday’s events deserve official performance reviews. The weather receives two out of five stars because it did eventually stop raining. The professional persons receive three stars for enthusiasm, although points were deducted for unexpected attendance and failure to provide refreshments. The woman who finally announced it was time to leave receives five stars and a complimentary imaginary pizza. The impatient prospective visitor receives zero stars for customer relations. Boy Person receives five stars for transportation services, and Girl Person receives five stars for not throwing her telephone into the waterfall. I, naturally, receive six stars because I am management, and management has certain privileges.

But then I remembered today’s affirmation, and I realized that perhaps I have been taking my executive responsibilities a little too seriously.

October 9 | I Am Allowed To Enjoy Something Before I Deserve It

Joy is not a prize I receive only after every chore is finished. I am allowed to enjoy beauty, laughter, food, music and companionship in the middle of an imperfect life.

Now, I happen to be an expert on this subject. If dogs waited until every responsibility was complete before enjoying ourselves, we would never roll on anything questionable. Joy is part of living, not a performance bonus. Imagine if I refused to wag my tail until every leaf had been sniffed, every stick had been inspected, and every professional person had submitted the correct paperwork. I would never wag my tail again. There are simply too many leaves and far too many humans with clipboards.

And maybe Girl Person needs to remember that too. We have spent so much time worrying about whether this sale will happen, what the buyer will say, where we might live next, and whether we will need to prepare for another winter that sometimes we forget we are allowed to enjoy the life happening right now. We do not have to wait until the house is sold to laugh at something ridiculous. We do not have to wait until every problem is solved to enjoy a sunshiney morning or a good meal. We do not have to earn the right to sit together, listen to music, or appreciate the mountain we have called home.

Yesterday, people came all the way up our mountain in terrible weather because someone is seriously considering making this extraordinary place their own. That is actually rather wonderful when you think about it. This old rustico sat waiting for someone for so many years before we found it, and perhaps now it is preparing for another chapter. The waterfall will continue flowing, the trees will keep growing, and the wild boars will continue their unauthorized landscaping. Maybe another family will discover the same magic we found here, while we begin an entirely different adventure of our own.

And what an adventure that could be! A home where groceries do not require a mountaineering expedition. A place where Girl Person does not have to worry about whether the wood is dry enough for winter. Somewhere Boy Person can walk to the store without returning three hours later looking like he has completed an international sporting event. And perhaps, most importantly, somewhere a pizza delivery person can actually find us without needing a compass, climbing equipment, and a signed liability waiver.

I know Girl Person is tired, and I know Boy Person has a lot on his shoulders. I also know that none of us can predict what the buyer will decide. But I think today’s affirmation is reminding us that we do not have to put our happiness on hold while other people make decisions. We can enjoy this Friday even if the report is not finished. We can laugh about yesterday even if we are still waiting for answers. We can appreciate the little things without first checking whether we have earned them.

Maybe that is what the heavens opening up was really about. At 8:30 yesterday morning, it seemed as though the entire day might be ruined. Then the rain stopped, Boy Person made it down the path, the professionals arrived, the inspection happened, and life continued. Not exactly according to plan, but it happened. Sometimes an opportunity does not arrive wrapped in sunshiney skies and perfect timing. Sometimes it arrives coughing, late, accompanied by three unexpected persons, and asking questions about old stones.

So today I am making an executive decision. We are going to enjoy something before we deserve it. Girl Person can listen to her favorite music without first answering another message. Boy Person can sit down without checking something for the fifteenth time. And I am going to enjoy a perfectly good stick without first completing my quarterly financial report. We can be hopeful about the future while still appreciating the present. We can be tired and grateful at the same time. And we can laugh at the absurdity of yesterday because, really, what else are we supposed to do with a mountain full of professional persons and absolutely no pizza?

For now, the inspection is finished, the mountain is still standing, and we are waiting for news. There is no timer, no little ding, and no guarantee that the next message will contain the answer we want. But something is happening, and perhaps that is enough for today. We have places to go, rescue dogs to help, stories to tell, and a whole world that has not yet had the pleasure of meeting me in my executive bow tie.

This is Fruitycake. I have officially closed the real estate office for the weekend. All future appointments require reservations, all complaints must be submitted with pizza, and all humans are reminded that joy is permitted before the paperwork is finished.

And if the heavens decide to open up again, I have one final request.

Could they please rain pepperoni this time?

Fruitycake

President and CEO of Important Dog Business

Under The Crow Rustico, Portofino, Italy

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P.S. From Fruitycake: Thank you for helping us through another rainy and uncertain week on this mountain! We still need help with groceries, necessities, and supplies while we wait for news about the rustico. You can help at www.tinyurl.com/2tdnecessities, through Venmo at @travelingdogs2, or by Zelle at rachael@2travelingdogs.com. And don’t forget our new cozy House Party Weekend Workbook, filled with three recipes, a rescue activity, and a certificate to make your weekend a little more special! You can get yours here: https://www.paypal.com/ncp/payment/AJN34F6X22W8A.

We are also looking for sponsors for our This Is…Me project, helping real shelter dogs tell their stories and find homes. Sponsor a rescue dog’s feature for $35 at http://www.paypal.com/ncp/payment/Q56YEJJTKXY96.

And please join us on Patreon for just $5 a month at www.patreon.com/2travelingdogsrescue. Every bit of support helps us keep going, helping rescue dogs, and sharing our adventures. Thank you for believing in us, even when the heavens open up! Now, if someone could just arrange for pizza to fall from the sky instead of rain, I would be extremely grateful.