Friday, November 9, 2012

Lost Bone

"Go on, go to the bathroom." I loop back into the house.

Orion disappears for awhile.

I hear the leash brush against the wood porch. I peer around the corner and his yellow head glows in the porch light and he has a bone tucked in his cheek.

I laugh.

"I thought you buried that out there. Glad to see you found it!"

In Orion waltzes with a dirty raw hide bone happily poised in his mouth.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Welcome home

I pull open the door and the bell jars as it jostles against the movement. I flip the outside light to off as I make my way through the lit hallway of my parent's house. I see the fire glowing in the living room and half hope to see a yellow dog bound around the corner, or asleep in a curled ball on the corner of the couch but neither appear. I quietly set my bags at the foot of the stairs and work my way upstairs to my bedroom. It's pushing one am, the perks of commuting an hour and a half to work and having a late shift. 

The door to my room is shut, and I open it, again hoping to see a yellow dog greet me, but instead I am greeted with a blast of cold air. Gotta love a skylight's insulation in a New England night sky. I guess the boy is enjoying his first sleepover party in Nana and Grandpa's room. I try not to be disappointed. I know how much he likes hanging out with Chloe and my parents. They do have a fluffier blanket. 

I tinker with the thought of opening the door and trying to sneak him out. Realistically, I know he'll resist. Again, fluffier blanket. So I crawl into my own bed and think about how I may save my legs an evening of being bruised as a 65 pound dog walks across them. Maybe I'll even sleep in.

One thirty rolls around and I'm still awake thinking about the elections. Mom stumbles out of her room muttering something about, "Oh good she's here..." And then in leaps my boy and I get kisses, and excitement, and I give him big hugs, and snuggle up next to him so the room warms up a bit, and off to sleep I go.

Saturday, November 3, 2012


"Orion I don't understand why you are so itchy. We can try benedryl tomorrow?" I say as he bounces away from my friendly pat.
To run a hand down his back is to press the gas pedal on a car, his foot leaps forward in great scratching anticipation.
I sigh and roll back into bed.
Curious, I pop up again, snag my computer from it's neglected state on the floor and type in, "Dog Fleas".
Images flash before my face and I squirm slightly in remembrance of my summer of Scabies and Bed Bugs. I could do for a stretch without the creepy crawlies.
I glance through them, landing on a site that seems reliable, and begin to read.
"...and an adversion to light. Hard to spot. Will leave poop trails that look like dirt in fur..."
"Oh no..."
I look over at him curled in a ball.
He jumps, as if startled.
"Orion come here."
I chase him around the room, finally pinning him in front of the bureau, grab the headlight from the top of the dresser and flick it on real quickly. Sure enough, a black spot scurries into his fur.
"You have got to be kidding," I say. After all, between the two of us, I don't think there's anything left for us to contract that crawls and eats you... scabies, bed bugs, tape worms, fleas....
"Well," I roll off him, he dashes for the corner of the room. "We will just have to treat you in the morning."
I flick off the head lamp and crawl back into bed.
"I'm sorry buddy. I really do sympathize."
"If it makes you feel better, Chloe probably has them too and we can sit on her in the morning to check. It's always nicer to have someone else going down with you. Gives you company in the very least."