The Care Plan

Beau: You know, Louise, it’s not considered a walk if you sit on the deck and throw the ball.

Me: Why not? You’re getting exercise.

Beau: Notice there’s only one of us getting exercise in that equation?

Me: Yeah. I kind of like it.

Beau: Your body doesn’t.

Me: My body is perfectly happy sitting here.

Beau: Your body is seventy-two, Louise. It has opinions.

Me: Only 72. Anyway. Whose side are you on?

Beau: Yours. Unfortunately.

Me: Unfortunately?

Beau: It’s exhausting.

Me: Very funny.

Beau: Flex. Stretch. Move. Your body is crying out for attention.

Me: I’m quite happy sitting here.

Beau: And I’m quite happy running around the yard fetching the ball. But as your caregiver, I’m going to have to insist you get up.

Me: Since when are you my caregiver?

Beau: Since forever.

Me: Beau, I don’t need caregiving.

Beau: Ahhh, Louise. Your need is great. Your awareness of it, less so.

Me: I am perfectly aware of my needs, thank you very much.

Beau: Really?

Me: Really.

Beau: When was the last time you played?

Me: I play.

Beau: When?

Me: I don’t know. Recently.

Beau: That’s not a date.

Me: I have fun.

Beau: Not what I asked.

Me: I laugh.

Beau: Still not what I asked.

Me: I write.

Beau: Work.

Me: I garden.

Beau: Work with dirt.

Me: I cook.

Beau: Work with snacks.

Me: I walk you.

Beau: Apparently not.

Me: Oh, for heaven’s sake.

Beau: When did you last do something for absolutely no reason other than it delighted you?

Me: I’m busy, Beau.

Beau: (makes buzzer sound) Nnnnnneeeee! Wrong answer.

Me: Stop doing that.

Beau: I will when you stop giving wrong answers.

Me: I have responsibilities.

Beau: Of course you do.

Me: People depend on me.

Beau: I know.

Me: Things need to get done.

Beau: Louise.

Me: What?

Beau: The world will survive if you go play for an hour.

Me: You don’t know that.

Beau: You have a rather inflated sense of your importance.

Me: Excuse me?

Beau: I said it lovingly.

Me: That doesn’t make it better.

Beau: As your caregiver, I’m trained to tell you the truth.

Me: You are not my caregiver.

Beau: Fine. Your Care Consultant.

Me: No.

Beau: Wellness Advisor?

Me: Absolutely not.

Beau: Director of Recreational Recovery?

Me: Beau.

Beau: I like that one.

Me: I noticed.

Beau: Here’s the thing, Louise. You give care. You’re very good at it.

Me: Thank you.

Beau: That wasn’t the end of the sentence.

Me: Of course it wasn’t.

Beau: You give care. But you’re not nearly as good at letting life give something back.

Me: Life gives me lots.

Beau: And how often do you sit still long enough to receive it?

Me: I’m sitting right now!

Beau: Yes. Making me fetch your ball.

Me: Your ball.

Beau: Details.

(He drops the ball at my feet.)

Beau: Come on.

Me: Where?

Beau: We’re going for a walk.

Me: I told you, I’m happy here.

Beau: This isn’t about happy.

Me: It’s not?

Beau: Nope. It’s about play.

Me: And walking is play?

Beau: No. But it gets us to the beach.

Me: Ahhhh. There it is.

Beau: What?

Me: Your ulterior motive.

Beau: Louise, I’m wounded.

Me: You want to go swimming.

Beau: I want you to play.

Me: At the beach.

Beau: Correct.

Me: Where you can swim.

Beau: If my therapeutic responsibilities require me to enter the water, I am prepared to make that sacrifice.

Me: How noble of you.

Beau: Caregiving is selfless work.

Me: Says the dog who just manipulated me into taking him to the beach.

Beau: (picking up his ball) I prefer “person-centred care.”

Me: I’m the person!

Beau: Exactly. And your care plan says beach.

(He trots toward the gate.)

Me: Wait a minute. Who wrote this care plan?

Beau: Your Director of Recreational Recovery.

Me: BEAU!

Beau: Bring the ball, Louise.

(Pause.)

Beau: You need the exercise.

Sigh, I hate it when he’s right.