Just Another Adjustment

Once again dear blog friends, I apologize for my infrequent posting. Blame it on my creaky bod or anything else you can think of but I am resolved to do better.

This week I realized how completely I've gone to the dogs. I mean that literally. When I moved to Colorado from Florida I never in my wildest dreams expected to share my new digs with dogs. The idea was absurd, and frankly, downright revolting. Dog hair, dog lips, dog doo-doo. Ick, ick, ick. But the little critters just kinda snuck up on me!

It all started after Jack and Carole moved into the townhouse with me. I'd had a painful accident and they needed to place to stay while "The Big House" in Manitou Springs was being gutted and rebuilt.

The kids announced they'd be moving "a few" (if you believe that you'll believe anything) things into the townhouse during rennovations. In addition to discovering eccentric object d'art like the talking Ed Grimley and Pee Wee Herman dolls and Tim-the-Enchanter hat tied on the beauty school mannequin, I detected the scratchy patter of 8 furry feet. Dogs? 2 Dogs?? No way!!

As I've written before, except for the tragic duck interlude, Jack grew up petless. At the time I liked it that way---(though in retrospect I regret it.) In any case, I was appalled to learn I'd be sharing my twilight years with not one but two dogs. I tried to protest, both passively and aggressively but to no avail. I wanted the kids with me at that time and pups were part of the package.

Actually things worked out better than I'd imagined because we all made compromises. The dogs never came into my little suite and we all learned to share the common area. I was never expected to do doo-doo duty and I discovered poodles don't shed but rat terriers never stop but that wasn't my problem either. However, it all became moot when I moved to my own beautiful, strict-no-pet-policy apartment. The thing is, I kind of miss the little guys.

I have even learned to travel with the dogs. A few days ago Carole came to pick me up for shopping. As usual the pups were in the car with her. (She believes they get depressed when they get left at home by themselves.) Samthedog loves to ride in my lap with his head on my once-perky bosom. Strangely enough I find this kind of cozy. (At my age that's about as good as it gets.) We have this little ritual in order to make this possible: Cover the seat with a clean towel, spread an airline blanket over my front and let Sammy snuggle in. There's always the occasional terrier hair on my polyester pants but I've learned to live with it....just like all the other previously unimaginable suprises in my life. And it's all good.