Shout Out to Tux

My friend Anita recently had to put down her dog.  Notice I say “her” dog; that’s important later.  We often (jokingly) vowed to “take care” of each others’ high maintenance pets – a la Strangers on a Train; we’re not owners who think our pets are humans in dog suits.  I’m sure my demise will conclude with my own pooch nibbling happily on my arm after I tumble down the basement stairs.  However, Tux was a devoted, furry, kebob-and-burrito-lovin’ canine who greeted every visitor with a sloppy washdown or the opportunity to appreciate – please – his lacquered coat (unless you were a gopher or had eyes on his water dish).  Anita’s husband Eugene confessed at one point that despite the family’s collective heartbreak, maybe Santa would bring a puppy for Christmas.  Anita, Permanent Vice President of the scooping, the medications, the walks, the kebob-skewer-removal-process, and the handling of all dog-related parts, activity and invoices, said she wasn’t ready.  Then she put away the doggie accoutrements, although, I’m sure, temporarily.  In my mind if the wife isn’t ready, then no one is.  Well, the other day she walked in and her husband Eugene suddenly flipped over his iPad, trying to look casually not guilty.  Anita suspected, um, possibly an unsavory website for adults only?  And yet when she flipped it back over it was puppies!  Puppies everywhere!  To which I say: Santa better be careful when he comes down that chimney.

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~ by alicetownsend on September 24, 2011.

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