Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Ask Me About My Grand-dog
My friends have grandchildren. I have Tinker Bell.
Tink (or Stinker Bell, as I like to call her) spent the past weekend with me while daughter and son-in-law celebrated their first wedding anniversary. Tink's a funny little dog that plays well with Indy and Bogey. However, the temporary increase of my "pack" means I really have to watch my step, since all three of them feel obligated to whirl around me like a fuzzy tornado with no worries over what I may be doing at the time. Hence the spilled cup of tea. But that's another story.
Although Tinker Bell enjoys her visit, I can tell when she's ready to go home. She perches on the upper most point of my new sofa and stares hard at the front door. Nothing seems to distract her. Clearly, this dog has an important engagement, and knows her ride is running late.
Don't worry, Tink. They'll be back to fetch you soon.
Meanwhile maybe one of these days I'll have my own non-furry, non-barking grandchild.
I can only hope.