Sunday, May 5, 2019

Dog sitting


 May 5, 2019
“Dog sitting Bella”


            BACKYARD -- I had every intention of coming to you from the rooftop this evening, but circumstances would not allow. For one thing, I have not completely mended from my surgery. If I were to strain my gut while climbing my extension ladder, it would take one of those V-22 Osprey tilt-rotor planes and a large basket to get me down. The government bought too many of those crash-prone planes not to use ‘em.

            Besides not being quite well enough for an assault on the rooftop, you’ve obviously noticed that I have been handed a big responsibility that needs constant attention here at ground level. Say hello to Bella. Don’t expect a response, though. This dog is pretty much a ‘fraidy cat. She’s afraid of people, other dogs, noises and the occasional pinecone.

            Right now, she’s sitting in my lap because she was less afraid of me than the ground. That and the fact that I exude positive dog vibes. Cats run from me, but dogs apparently like what they smell. Before marrying Kay, she agreed that she would not try to kowtow me into getting a dog. -- I selected “kowtow” here because I use it so seldom; I thought it about time to break it out.

            So, you can tell by the way I’m letting this dog lick my hands that I do not hate animals. The only animals that I don’t care to befriend are those I’m afraid of and those I have little respect for. Possums and moles come to mind.

            But, as mentioned in several articles, I don’t like the responsibility of owning a pet. For one thing, you have to take care of the animal’s poop. I’m not a big fan of that chore and have little respect for anyone who is. If you plan to go on a trip, you have to either take your pet with you or find someone else who will feed it and take care of its poop. I am not that person. You’ll need Kay for that.

            That’s why Bella is with us. – Beg pardon? Oh, she’s a miniature poodle. I thought I mentioned that. I didn’t know that Bella was a poodle until today. Stupid me, I thought poodles looked like poodles. They were born with puffy fur on the tip of their saluting tails. They were furry as all get out from the chest to the top notch on their head. Some of them were born with furry calves.

            Oh, and they were born with a combed, furry face, complete with fluffy ears, each of which would make a good potholder. Bella doesn’t have any of that going for her. Our neighbor took her to be groomed for the first time in, apparently, a couple of years. The dog’s fur was so matted that the only thing the groomer could do is sheer her like a sheep. She ended up tying a plastic flower on each of her ears to give her a hint of sophistication. I’m telling you, artificial flowers do not a poodle make. Like I say, if Kay hadn’t told me she was a poodle, I would’ve never guessed.

            The reason Kay and I are dog-sitting Bella is that the rubber band keeping one of the flowers affixed to her ear got wound too tight and ended up cutting off the circulation to her ear. That happened to me in the third grade once, and let me tell you, it’s no joy.

            The vet had to remove over half of Bella’s ear. Now, she couldn’t look like a real poodle if she wanted to. To keep her from aggravating the wound on her ear, the vet put one of those cones around her neck. Bella’s cone is a big zip-on black thing that looks like an insulated bag. It’s too big for Bella, but I didn’t want to tell her that, ‘because she looked pretty pathetic even without the cone. 

            As you can see, Bella is not currently wearing the cone of despair. Kay took it off and told me to sit out here and keep her from itching her ear. Nowhere do I read that stipulation in my “Husband of Kay’s Job Description.”  I do it because that’s the kind of guy I am. The only reason I’m holding the dog is because she came over and climbed into my lap. Like I say, few animals will do that. Kay stopped doing it about 30 years back.

            I don’t know what it is about a person’s face that makes a dog want to lick it. I truly believe that if I let Bella do as she wished, she’d climb up, lick my face a bunch, and then sit on my head. While I don’t have a great deal of dignity left following my hospital stay, I still have just enough to keep a dog from licking my face and sitting on my head. This faux poodle has already licked all the flavorful stuff from both my hands. I didn’t get an ounce of enjoyment out of that, but I let it happen because I figured she needed a sense of acceptance. When you let someone lick your hands, it just screams acceptance.

            Fortunately, Kay will be out here in a minute to free me from this burden. That’s one of the good words – “free.” Other good words are kind, sweet, calm, generous, and thoughtful. Right now, free has them all beat. I’m afraid if Kay doesn’t get here soon, I may have to walk this dog around so it can poop. Now that’s a bad word. It’s one of those words that will keep Bella from staying the whole night. Job description or not, overnight dog sitting would put a strain on this guy’s marriage. What I’m saying?

end

You can contact Mark at  hayter.mark@gmail.com

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