Time Change Blues: A Post by Marcy Mary

The sun is beginning its downward descent behind the mountain. Soon, twilight will be upon us, and the most disturbing thing has occurred. Children and animals are distraught and gathered in our kitchen. The complaints are “I’m starving,” “I’m hungry,” and “When are we going to eat?” For myself, I am feeling faint from a lack of sustenance. Might I remind you that I do not get lunch?

My human parents, usually the most benevolent beings and excellent providers, are adamant. It is the unspoken rule at the Anthony household that we do the end of daylight savings time cold turkey—without the turkey. Dinner arrives one excruciatingly long hour later. Yowling cats, barking dogs, and complaining children will not hasten the arrival of the evening meal.

This year, Mom has adopted a new strategy: she made a stew that is cooking in the oven. It is sending out tantalizing wisps of beef browned in bacon fat. Family members are salivating and pacing. With a tolerant smile, Mom answers all inquiries with, “Dinner will be ready at 6:30—our usual time for dinner. The stew will not be done until then. Believe me, it is much easier to start adjusting to the new time here, because tomorrow you will go to school and be starving by 11:00. At least you can have a snack here. Have a piece of fruit and give the animals a few kibbles.” 

Really! A few kibbles? The beef-bacon combo is tantalizing, and I find I am salivating. I look at Mom, who is sitting sidesaddle at the table, cracking walnuts for her holiday baking. It is a noisy, messy enterprise and seems to be a lot of work for little return. Ew, walnuts! Who would even want to eat them? Although I do know a German shepherd named Dirk who eats the whole nut, including the outer green husk. Dirk says it keeps his teeth sharp and his coat shiny. Whatever …

Kotty, emitting a low-level growl, comes up to me and says, “Do something. I would, but Siamese cats never beg for food. You, on the other hand …” 

Before I can respond to Kotty, my other feline sibling, Rex, mewls pitifully, “Please, Marcy Mary?”

I look affectionately at Rex. I suspect his large circumference is not all fur, but who can say no to this adorable, gray adolescent tabby? 

As usual, it is up to me. I go over to Mom and put my paw on her foot. She looks down at me. I then fling myself down on the floor and roll on my back, with all of my lovely legs straight in the air. For effect, I let my tongue loll out of the side of my mouth.

Mom laughs and says, “Okay, Marcy Mary, I get the message. You guys don’t understand about the time change.” 

She really hasn’t a clue. My furry siblings and I have plenty of time to observe the peculiarities of our humans, including the biannual penchant for messing with the clock. I mean, the sun does not suddenly accelerate or decelerate as it crosses the sky. This whole thing disturbs my circadian rhythms, not to mention the digestive chaos brought on by dinner arriving an hour later than usual.

But on this night, we excellent creatures have been given a reprieve. “It is not fair for you and the cats to wait. Come on, I will feed you.” She bends over and whispers, “I have a few special bits for you guys.” 

As Mom prepares our bowls, Kotty says to the air, “It’s about time,” and lashes her tail about—not that Mom will notice. Mom sets our bowls down, and I notice we have some little chunks of beef and bits of bacon in addition to the usual kibble and chicken. Yum! 

Watching us eat, Joey whines, “Mom, is it time yet?”

“Joey, I told you: dinner will be ready at 6:30. Have a piece of fruit. Or would you like a walnut?” 

“No! Gross!” Joey grabs an apple and leaves.

Really, I don’t know what all the humans are fussing about. The beef is well worth waiting for …

It is now 5:45 and completely dark. I think I will have a little nap. Before dozing off, I want to set the record straight. Dachshunds never beg—they encourage sharing, which is such an admirable trait and needs to be encouraged in our human families …

2 thoughts on “Time Change Blues: A Post by Marcy Mary

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s