I’ve been walking the family dog in the evenings.

We go out to the back yard. I like watching the sun sink low in the west, noticing the sky turn interesting colors. She prefers to flip her belly towards the sky and roll in the grass.

This week I am at least partially responsible for tending to seven dogs that aren’t mine. Also an indoor cat and a couple of strays. Three different families are off traveling across the ocean, so they hired a caretaker with spare time, experience, access to transportation, and opposable tumbs.

I make my rounds and help keep everyone from going hungry or creating an unholy mess. I give them time to run around outside and play in the sunlight.

I worry a little that something bad will happen to them on my watch. I am careful.

So often, in the summer, it becomes almost impossible to get out of bed. In the stillness of the morning, it’s difficult to think of a reason not to give in to the persistent waves of sweet unconsciousness.

Being responsible for taking care of other creatures gives me a reason.