Living in a zoo without medication

What do you do when your head hurts and the dog barks? You go outside for a walk.
Usually when I'm hurting, I don't think of going outside. Even when my boys were babies, getting outdoors with a migraine didn't seem like a reasonable choice. Today - there is no choice.
At 6 a.m. it is dark, which is good. My eyes feel as eager to see sunlight as the green growth sprouting from a 10 lb bag of Manitoba Reds. Still, Root Beer and I have a routine. We head out for our morning constitutional. I make it six houses and then return home.
I commence the after-walk routine:
Brew coffee - check
Make lunch - check
Check calendar - check, Tuesday, swimming, shit.
Find swim suit - check
Find towel - check
Wake-up Luke - checkkkkkkkk, teenagers.
It goes fast after that, shower, check, clothes, check, backpack, check -- go, go, go, there's the bus. HOLD ON ---- toast, check, juice box, check.
Relief - check, bed. Yes.
No.
Okay, Root Beer, out we go.
I stand in the doorway, trembling. I should probably go with her, but I feel yucky.
Root Beer comes back inside and we both settle for a nap.
9:15. A short nap.
Away we go. Root Beer chases Bel, she almost catches her, Bel chases Root Beer, and the room spins.
10:30. I grab a pair of sweats lying in a heap at the end of my bed. I pull on my favourite I'm-at-home sweater.
I add:
Ski jacket - check.
Scarf - check.
Mitts- check.
Hat - check.
Sunglasses. Dammit, where are my sunglasses?
Root Beer and I go around the block. She runs. She leaps in the snow. She throws pine cones in the air. She catches them. I laugh. My head hurts but I can't help smiling.
We get home. Another nap. It's a little longer.
I wake up. I think about work, and then about housework. I take a bath.
YOW!
I shake off the lavender bubbles and investigate.
Bel is sitting on a chair swatting Root Beer's nose.
Geezus.
I make lunch for everybody. Apple juice tastes best when it is almost frozen.
I sit down on the couch and finally relax.
The revelry continues.
I take another aspirin.
I grab my jacket.
We go for another walk, and another and... you get the picture.
By the end of the day, Root beer is tired, Bel is traumatised and my headache - it's gone.