Another New Year’s Resolution I scribbled down for this year is: To be the person my dog thinks I am.
I am not the original author of this resolution but I like it because my dog thinks I am Isis, goddess of the bacon fat. Unlike my children, my dog Thurston–Mr. Howl to you–thinks I’m cool when I sing super loud and off-key. Unlike my husband, he adores me when I’ve just eaten a dinner slathered in garlic and onions. Unlike my family, he worships they way I prepare each and every meal and cheerfully helps clean the pots.
We live out in the country and the house is set back from the road. When we drive away without him, his face slowly collapses from his huge, Golden Retriever grin with his dolly dangling like Columbo’s cigar from the corner of his mouth. In its place, resignation. A canine sigh. Not invited this time. He flops to the front porch, props his head on dolly and waits. Sometimes hours. And weirdly, out of all the Toyota Sienna minivans in the universe that travel down our road, the moment ours turns the corner and heads up the street, he and dolly leap to attention and gallop to greet us, the Golden grin erupting like the rocket’s red glare, bombs bursting in air, yes! YES, MOM IS STILL THERE! Continue reading