I try not to complain about how much I travel for work because 1.) the ability to travel freely is a privilege denied to many and 2.) less than three years ago I was jobless, burning through my savings and living in a roach infested apartment to save money while we got our feet back under us.
During this time, Oscar was a constant. A constant source of happiness, love, support, stability and non-judgement.
Going back to trying not to complain about work travel… I missed my connection tonight – the last one out – due to the airline’s mechanical error with check-ins and am spending the night at a Detroit airport hotel. One more night away from home and my Big Guy and my Little Guy.
Robinson and I leave for vacation tomorrow. We’ll be gone five days and this was going to my one night to snuggle Oscar before leaving again. I’m sitting in my hotel room feeling lonely, sad and guilty. Somehow, Oscar is able to feel this too. Robinson sent me this picture just minutes ago of Oscar. He climbed into our partially packed suitcase to snuggle. I feel you, Little Buddy. See you in the morning.
I want to believe that in Oscar’s alternative world this means “I love you, I missed you, I’m so glad you’re home, you’re my best friend ever!!!”
Somehow, though, I don’t think that’s what he’s meaning to tell me. Look at him looking at it, as if to say, “Take that, jack*ss. Just wait ’till next time.”
Every year I ask a friend of mine to photoshop Oscar into a current events photo for New Year. Here’s our 2017 new years card… wishing you and yours a royally awesome new year!
I started reading the book, “A Dog’s Purpose”. I haven’t read a dog novel for a long time. I always end up in tears and Robinson tells me I shouldn’t read them anymore. I likely won’t read a dog book again for a really long time.
As much as I hate how the book makes me sad, I am happy that it is making me reflect. Oscar’s 12 years with us has had many purposes. Here are ten:
1.) He brings me balance.
2.) He makes me happy.
3.) He brings me home, which – for a seeker like me – is essential.
4.) He helped Robinson and me define what a family could look like for us.
5.) He’s makes me less afraid.
6.) He makes me stop and smell the roses.
7.) He makes me stop and talk to strangers
8.) He makes me more curious.
9.) He helps me make excuses and say no to obligations I don’t want to take on, as in, “Gee, I would love to, but I have to go home and let Oscar out.”
10.) He makes me feel like the most important person in the entire world. And I know I am, to him.
When Oscar was around two years old, he competed in a local “Pet Olympics” event. He won a gold medal in the peanut butter lick off contest, beating out other dogs 20 times his size. Take that, Michael Phelps
Most days, early in the morning, Oscar will go from being on top of the covers at the foot of the bed to snuggling next to me under the covers. It starts with him gentling tapping on my shoulder with his paw, me opening the covers, and him crawling under the covers and cuddling close to me – snuggled into a little ball under my arm.
This morning we went through the usual routine, but after about a minute of snuggling, he crawled out to give me kisses for a good 30 seconds before going back under the covers.
I hate being woken up, but I will always make an exception for this.
It’s officially “hot dog” season in DC. Last Friday we took Oscar to Concerts in the Park and he was sure eyeing my ice cold beer.