Wanna' Go For a Ride?

-
Six or seven weeks back I made a mistake. On a Saturday morning I asked the question that all dogs want to hear:

"Wanna' go for a ride?"

Melky and Shadow jumped off the bed to meet me at the door.

Now, Saturday's start the same way - I answer e-mail, have a cup of coffee, and try desperately to fend off Melky who understands that it is time for that weekly ride to pick up the paper. Sadly, this week it is just Melky, Sam, Jake and me.

I've tried fooling Melky with the calendar by pointing at it and saying, "It's only Friday." But she'll have none of it. Right now, she's staring at me, waiting for the clicking to stop, hoping that I'll push back in the chair and reach for the doorknob.

Yet this is not simply a blog about dogs - I must admit that they are on my mind this week, but only because of the greater lessons they teach me about my life.

Melky is a mess. She misses Shadow so passionately that my heart aches for her. She actually took a dump in the house this week because she can't handle walking around the backyard alone. She hasn't figured out why - and God help me - I can't explain it to her. I tried telling her that we had to let, The broken hearts stand as the price we gotta' pay, but she can't stand Bruce's singing voice - or mine either for that matter. (Listen to the words), I said.

And then there is the anticipation of something so cool to take a little of the pain away. I tried to explain that the ride in the car, which is coming soon, will not take away the hurt - and neither will the shot of Jameson's, or the laughs on the golf course, or the Yankees winning, or the next Springsteen concert.

"Let's just go," she said.

So, we'll go and she'll wag her tail and leap into the car, and kiss me thankfully when we return home.

And later today, I'll see that lost look in her eyes, and I'll pat her head and tell her it'll be all right.

And she'll see that I'm just lying to her about it getting easier.

She'll wonder why life can't always be just about going for a ride, and I'll tell her that it just doesn't work that way.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Suits

-
Like a lot of other people we got pulled into the series, ‘Suits’ on Netflix. I’ve never had much fun hanging around lawyers who have questioned me as a construction safety officer. I once testified in a case where the opposing lawyer started questioning me by going through my educational background. “So,” he said, racing to a crescendo, “You graduated from college with a degree in Communications-Journalism and suddenly, 30 years later, you’re a ‘safety expert.’” He actually made the quotation marks with his fingers. I just looked at him. “How does that happen?” He bellowed, sure that he was going to discredit me. “Well,” I said. “I knew I was overqualified to become a lawyer.” The courtroom erupted in laughter. Even the judge chuckled. The rest of his questions landed flat. So, I wasn’t all that keen on a show about lawyers, but ‘Suits’ is great. Meghan Markle became a princess because of the show, and she is very good in it (and a beautiful woman). Yet, there is so much more. The wri
Read more

My Buddy, Dave

-
Way back in 1997, I started working with a steel erection company out of Syracuse. I was coming straight from a long stint with a steel erector here in Buffalo so I knew my stuff when it came to steel erection safety rules. On day one, I met with the safety director and he was just getting started as a safety guy, but man, he certainly cared about the guys he worked with. Dave was a good man from the start. He’d say things like: “You’re so full of beans.” Just a down to earth, hardworking guy who became a fast friend. We drove all around New York State setting up jobs. I always let Dave drive so that I could rest. One fine day, way up North of Syracuse, we passed a state trooper.  I glanced at the speedometer. “You’re screwed,” I said, and seconds later, the lights came on. Dave was beside himself.  The cop stopped by the window, grabbed the license and registration and headed back to his vehicle. “Here’s the thing,” I said. “You’re pissed, but you’re such a good guy that I bet you tha
Read more

Mom & Ollie

-
Image
 Ollie Stadium is a mess. The heavy rains rendered the backyard a mud pit and even though we threw in the side yard, the Big O was looking for more, and we were both covered in mud. I had to take some steam out of him somehow so I suggested we go visit Grandma. Ollie hates the car, but he laid quietly as we made the trip. We even brought the football because there is plenty of room to play at Grandma’s. Mom opened the door and started laughing. I thought about the love she had for every single dog we ever had. Oliver was quick to give my Mom a kiss, and then he stood beside her. The love between Mom and Dogs is a mutual bond. Through the years, Mom would make breakfast for the dogs.  Fried eggs, toast, bacon… She would wrap Christmas gifts for them. “To Jeter, Love Santa,” she would write on the cards. They played with the big chicken that made a lot of noise. Mom tossed the football and Ollie brought it back to her. As the visit drew to a close I headed for the door.  “C’mon, Oliver,”
Read more