The Win

My dog Omar likes to walk around the house with a big rawhide chew sticking out of the corner of his mouth like a giant cigar. The Winston Churchill look, no longer fashionable and not much seen outside of male-only dinners. So, I call Omar 'Winnie' at those moments. As often happens, this concept has rearranged itself and now the chew is called 'Win'. Not so hard to understand, I guess. Almost logical process. Nobody in my family seems to be able to let language alone.

Someone wished a dog off on us many years ago. The dog was part shepherd,and then several dozen other varieties. He was almost full grown and had been spending his day time shut in a bathroom because of an unlovable tendency to chew shoes and clothing. When the young couple who had adopted him as an adorable puppy stopped playing house, nobody wanted the dog. He had been named 'Zoom'. He was extremely uncertain about his place in the order of things.

I was the person who fed dogs around my house, so I became Zoom's hero. To show his appreciation, he would rear up on his back legs like a horse. Without delay, he was nicknamed 'Horsey'. That became 'Horsey Woozus' or just 'Woozus'. Even after he was way too arthritic to stand on his back legs pawing the air and too deaf to respond to any of his many names, he continued as the Woozus. I didn't think I'd miss him when he was gone but I do, incontinence and all.

I'm thinking 'These are the good times' should be my mantra. Why not fly in the face of all adversity?