Buddy has had an up and down sort of Thanksgiving.
On one hand, he is glad to see my younger son and my older son with girlfriend. This offers increased belly rubs and longer, more interesting walks. He is also a huge fan of turkey.
Unfortunately he has had a closer than necessary run-in with a clipping razor, so he has a “shaver burn” on his belly and on his tail. When this happens, he licks and licks until he creates raw itchy patches. I fashioned a simultaneously pitiful and hysterical pair of doggy pants out of a pair of tights – which kept the licking down slightly, but not enough to resolve the problem, so we went to the vet yesterday.
He is now sporting a “cone of shame” and a bandaged tail.
We seem to be having an appendage injury kind of Thanksgiving this year. My older son burned his hand on a pan this morning, so both he and Buddy are sporting bandages.
Luckily, there is enough increased activity around here because of the Thanksgiving holiday that they seem to be taking it all in stride. We spent the evening last night around the piano, banging out boogie-woogie, drinking wine and singing classic rock songs rather loudly.
Buddy is like the rest of our family. We put aside the annoyances, the burned hand and the itchy-not-so-perfect parts of our lives to enjoy the food, the family, and the moment.
I hope you had a boogie-woogie cone-head Thanksgiving too!
Photo: L. Kreha
I may not be really good at explaining theological concepts to dogs and children.
When my younger son was in kindergarten, he blurted out to me one day, “I don’t want to go to Heaven.” When I asked him why, he replied, “Well why would I want to go there? The place is full of dead people.”
I gave him the whole spiel…streets are paved with gold….reunited with people who have passed before you…be with God. But he wasn’t buying it.
He said, “Face it mom, they’re dead.”
Perhaps I will get farther with the dog. We are going to bring our dog Buddy to church on Sunday for the annual Blessing of the Beasts.I tried to explain this to Buddy but he doesn’t understand spiritual matters, because when I speak to him all he hears is: “Cpihshakepoininaitreatadjfoijgoforawalkapofjgoodboycookiejpoadrideinthecar.”
I tell him that God won’t bless the stinky and that I am going to take him to the groomer. After all, they say that “Cleanliness is next to Godliness.”
So here he is, trying SO HARD to decipher what I am saying, clean and ready and at his “Sunday Best” for the service, which is two days away.
Let’s hope I can keep him from rolling in something stinky until then.
And let’s also hope that my efforts on both my son and my dog’s behalf will prevail.
It is early October in Chicago and temperatures have tumbled recently, especially along the lakeshore. On an early morning walk today it was the kind of damp and windy weather that left my teeth chattering and my brain wondering WHY I live here.
There is no escaping it. It is time for “sock weather.”
I am not one to rush into wearing socks. Once they are on, it is a long slippery slope that only ends in winter heartache; snow, slush, ice and freezing winds.
For the short term, I don my long down coat with my clogs without socks. Like a ragamuffin child I head out the door for a walk with Buddy. OK, I know this is not a fashion forward statement. Actually, because I am short it is difficult to discern which end is up when I wear this coat but avoiding the cold trumps appearance; no matter how ridiculous I look.
Buddy has a sweater with a hood. My sons think he looks ridiculous in it. I think he looks adorable, but it really doesn’t matter what he looks like, because he gets cold too.
So off we go for a walk, no socks yet. I am holding out for awhile.
We may look a little odd, but we won’t be cold, my Buddy and me.
The sky is gray and white and cloudy
Sometimes I think it’s hanging down on me
And it’s a hitchhike a hundred miles
I’m a rag-a-muffin child
Pointed finger-painted smile
I left my shadow waiting down the road for me a while.” Paul Simon