Did You Ever Have to Make Up Your Mind was a song by the Loving Spoonful. They sang, “You pick up on one and leave the other behind. It's not often easy and not often kind.” The dilemma begins with lunch shortly after eleven in our house. Mom asks what’s for lunch and then makes something for herself. My daughter soon follows to doctor her lunch. I look forward to toasted cheese on a tortilla if there are no leftovers.
Ginger presents herself throughout the process because food accidentally falls on the floor. Sometimes, someone accidentally on purpose drops something just to spoil her. The hard work of looking woefully underfed for a whole hour wears her out and about the time I finish eating, she searches for a napping spot.
This past Wednesday my father-in-law’s physical therapist came up the drive around one. I heard her barking commands to our hard-of-hearing old man. I think she was a drill sergeant in her earlier life. Twenty minutes of instructions to stretch, walk, sit and rise echoed up the stairs to two floppy ears sleeping soundly. These direct directives proved to be insolence to a Karen of a dog.
Where a human Karen “Reeees” at perceived injustice, our four-legged Karen “Roooos” at the inequalities of her eyes as she raced for the front window. The combination of howling and barking raged at the strange car parked in the turn-around. Then the voice demanding more from the old man steered Ginger to the In-law suite door where the growls and screeches interrupt the training.
Mom reached her breaking point and promised the raging Karen a calming treat if she went upstairs. Now the Karen in our dog coveted tormenting the therapist while Ginger our dog desired the treat. The poor confused dog ran upstairs only to turn and run back down to yowl once more. Mom held up the treat, and she skidded along the kitchen floor trying to retreat to the bedroom.
Once more the Karen blossomed in her heart as she started for the In-law door only to see the treat heading upstairs. She stopped halfway between the door and the stairs eyeing both at the same time. Her furry head twitched to and fro trying to discover the proper response to two highly regarded outcomes. The pain of frustration from the mystification of wanting to chase after two highly prized moments sprouted from her being.
Mom offered calming treats was a rare moment and finding commotion to bark happens every day. “Are you coming?” softly floated down the stairs and Ginger jumped up the stairs for the treat. Mom closed her in the bedroom for a peaceful afternoon as I worked on another chapter in my latest book.
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