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I went over to SC for a funeral. For the father of two of my best friends, a house on the same street where I grew up as a kid. Well, I grew up in their house. I liked their house better than ours. I feel like they raised me, but I had to just go somewhere else to sleep. Their house was just that much fun. I could relax there, could not at my own house. My parents seemed to me as a kid to be Ward and June Cleaver personified. Just too good.
But it was a fun time, as that family always is. Sure, it was a loss and a sad occasion, but the program and ceremony by itself was actually something I've always heard about, cliche, but I finally saw it - a celebration of a life well lived. There was laughter and stories galore amongst the tears. I'm glad I went.
So when I got home earlier today, (Unit didn't go to the funeral with me because Spankie the Dawg is pretty much living luggage anymore, deaf and blind and can't stand to be away from his mama)....when I got home with big eyes she told me they had a great adventure this morning while I was away.
We have to make sure Spankie has pooped before we take him for a ride in the car, and he now DEMANDS a ride in the car every day, part of his routine that he trained us for. He's a crotchity old fart.
One day a few months ago, I took him to the store and was coming home on the curvy hilly narrow road that is Mouse Creek and he decided he had to poop. He got desperate all of a sudden. I don't know if the motion of riding stirs his system, up, or what. About a half mile from home he started whining and pawing at me and started to try to open Red's passenger door and couldn't do that so he climbed on me trying to open the driver's door. A 50-pound dog. I nearly wrecked on the worst curve of all. Yeah, he had to poop. I mean NOW.
So Unit was taking him to the store today. Same thing, but he started as soon as they were in the driveway. So, you didn't know you had to poop until we got into the car?
He wouldn't get back out of the car to poop in the front yard. So she kept going. He did his radical stuff out on Mouse Creek Road. Unit had the presence of mind to pull into the parking lot of a church - there's sure nowhere to pull over otherwise.
She found a spot way over in the corner of the parking lot and leashed Spankie and took him into the woods and he pooped a boatload. Exactly at the same time that the church parking lot was filling up with church goers arriving for the morning services. Public Pooping Dawg. While that was going on, a man in a golf cart pulled up beside Bluebelle the car. Unit's thinking, we're in trouble now.
When Unit and Spankie got back to the car she said, "I'm sorry, that was an emergency."
Man said, "No problem, I was just going to give you a ride if you were going to join our church today."
So now Spankie has a brand new nickname along with all of his others - "Holy Shit."
But it was a fun time, as that family always is. Sure, it was a loss and a sad occasion, but the program and ceremony by itself was actually something I've always heard about, cliche, but I finally saw it - a celebration of a life well lived. There was laughter and stories galore amongst the tears. I'm glad I went.
So when I got home earlier today, (Unit didn't go to the funeral with me because Spankie the Dawg is pretty much living luggage anymore, deaf and blind and can't stand to be away from his mama)....when I got home with big eyes she told me they had a great adventure this morning while I was away.
We have to make sure Spankie has pooped before we take him for a ride in the car, and he now DEMANDS a ride in the car every day, part of his routine that he trained us for. He's a crotchity old fart.
One day a few months ago, I took him to the store and was coming home on the curvy hilly narrow road that is Mouse Creek and he decided he had to poop. He got desperate all of a sudden. I don't know if the motion of riding stirs his system, up, or what. About a half mile from home he started whining and pawing at me and started to try to open Red's passenger door and couldn't do that so he climbed on me trying to open the driver's door. A 50-pound dog. I nearly wrecked on the worst curve of all. Yeah, he had to poop. I mean NOW.
So Unit was taking him to the store today. Same thing, but he started as soon as they were in the driveway. So, you didn't know you had to poop until we got into the car?
He wouldn't get back out of the car to poop in the front yard. So she kept going. He did his radical stuff out on Mouse Creek Road. Unit had the presence of mind to pull into the parking lot of a church - there's sure nowhere to pull over otherwise.
She found a spot way over in the corner of the parking lot and leashed Spankie and took him into the woods and he pooped a boatload. Exactly at the same time that the church parking lot was filling up with church goers arriving for the morning services. Public Pooping Dawg. While that was going on, a man in a golf cart pulled up beside Bluebelle the car. Unit's thinking, we're in trouble now.
When Unit and Spankie got back to the car she said, "I'm sorry, that was an emergency."
Man said, "No problem, I was just going to give you a ride if you were going to join our church today."
So now Spankie has a brand new nickname along with all of his others - "Holy Shit."