For those of you who follow my Facebook postings, you know that my day of thanks was splendid. The most excellent Rachel, mother of sissy Otis, and chef extraordinaire, had prepared a canine feast befitting a king, and certainly a pug of my breeding and standing. Unfortunately Lizzie and Otis had to share this gourmet extravaganza of chicken, carrots and sweet potatoes…all cooked and seasoned to perfection. I say it was casting pearls before swine, having to include those two peasants. But I digress.
This morning found us, once again, in the care of a single parent since Dad left for Milan last night. It is always with some trepidation that I face these separations…not because I don’t adore both of my parents…but because with two humans, mornings are efficient and flow seamlessly. Honestly, Dad seems to run like a well-oiled machine and Mom operates in a jerky kind of fits and starts way. She has my heart and always will but I’m being painfully honest now.
At any rate, this morning followed her usual pattern of care giving, and while we were walked, fed, and medicated, it was done in a way that makes me less eager to cooperate. Because Mom’s bathroom is upstairs within their bedroom, she left Lizzie and me in bed while she quickly showered. This is not how Dad does it, so I was immediately thrown off. She assumed we would lie quietly in bed until she was finished and dressed. That slug Lizzie was only too happy to comply, but I, however, decided to explore a bit. At the foot of their bed is a bureau, which I am embarrassed to say contained all of the clean clothes delivered from the laundry which they had not put away. They made a formidable mountain and it seemed the best way to reach Mom was to climb that mound of clothes. I quickly realized the error of my thinking when I found myself hanging tenuously by a very small article of clothing. I began my frantic warbling, which then became howls of pug terror. She flung open her bathroom door just in time to catch me from a very serious fall. I must say that going down the stairs and then outside for a walk was the last thing I wanted to do after that near brush with tragedy.
Mom, I will try to be more compliant this week. Dad, I’m counting the days until your return.