When I came home from golfing at Oxford Hills Golf and Liars Club last Thursday night, ma’dog Shayna was limping. ‘Her right foot seemed to be giving her trouble.
But, heck, dogs are tough. We never gave a limping dog any concern when I was a lad on a farm in Shiawassee County. ‘Give ’em time, they’ll get over it,? was Dad’s saying.
Well, I ain’t my dad, so I got down on the floor with Shayna, talked to her like a child.
‘Does it hurt here? Did you step on something? You’ll be all right in the morning.?
During that 10 minutes of cooing, Shayna laid on her side, right foot out and put a pleading look on her face for sympathy, understanding and a ‘could you run-your-fingers-across-my-belly-for-a-while? look on her face.
My belief in Shayna’s suffering heightened when she walked away from my offer of bacon. After dinner and a little tv watching, I scooped some strawberry ice cream in her dish. She didn’t attack it anxiously, but she ate it.
Then it was time for an outdoor run. Getting to the door appeared to be painful to her as she hopped along, barely using her right leg.
‘OK, Shayna, you win. First thing tomorrow morning we’re going to the vet.?
Next day she seemed a little better as she was able to get into my van. But, as soon as I opened the door at the clinic, Shayna had movements that brought the words, ‘miracle recovery? to mind. She showed no sign of a bum paw, and became a happy greeter in the lobby. I wanted to leave, but an appointment was made. Every joint and organ was tested with no reaction from ma’dog.
When we returned home, I got out and opened the van door. Shayna’s attitude at the exiting had changed. And, as she took her first steps I noticed she was limping again.
Favoring her LEFT leg!
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We’ve known this couple for 20-plus years. I play golf with him twice a week. He’s a pretty good golfer and an excellent partier.
He’ll have a beer or three and a touch or three of rye almost daily.
Recently, in preparing for a cholesterol examination, my friend vowed to not let any of that vile, offering of the Devil go over his lips for a week. This promise caused several of us, who had never offered before, to buy him whatever he wanted from any bar in our five-county area.
My hero didn’t weaken. In fact he became stronger, seemingly more committed to keeping his pledge as we increased our immoral peer pressure.
He’d been into his act for four days when I called his wife and suggested, ‘Maybe you should go smell his breath. You may have forgotten its smell. It might bring back fond memories of your courting days.?
She thought that was as funny (as I did), and we had our little laugh.
Then came Thursday eve. Seven days from the beginning of his promise of week-long abstinence.
The wife called me about 8:15 p.m. ‘Everything is all right again. He smells like VO!? she said.
And, we had another little laugh. It’s fun to have friends you can do these things with.
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When the writers of our U. S. Constitution put the word ‘endowed? in the Preamble, do you suppose they had any idea that word would have the usage the oglers have given it today?