With Thanksgiving taking copious amounts of time from cleaning, cooking, overeating, and the long recovery from the festivities, I commented on not blogging this week. To which, our resident Karen moaned with disappointment. So, to keep her happy and make her week, here is this week’s story of Ginger the dog.
On Wednesday, my daughter started the bread-making process for dinner rolls for the feast. This includes blooming the yeast in warm water. She lounged on the couch for twenty minutes until the yeast becomes fully activated.
My FIL maintained his workout regimen by having the PT visit the house. The drill sergeant of a PT arrived as my daughter reclined on the couch. The sound of the car door closing perked the ears of our dog and released the Karen from deep inside. “Aaarrrroooo,” raced down the steps to the couch in the front window. Alas, her college-aged sister took up the entire space and refused to share.
“Naaarrooo, rooo-rooo,” and more high pitch, low-volume complaints spilled out of her mouth of Karen.
“Are you cussing at your sister?” as my stern eyes stared at the dog.
She turned to the couch and attempted once more to gain her perch to the outside world. Once more her sister blocked her endeavor to mouth off to the world. “Naaarrooo, rooo-rooo,” in an even lower tone.
“I will not have that type of language in this house.”
Apparently, it hurts when you try to stifle laughter as sister’s tears trickled from holding back the glee. “Your dog just cussed at you?”
“Yeah, I think she did,” came through a gritted smile.
Then the voice of the drill instructor PT came through the door activating full Karen mode for the half-hour she worked the old man.
Our Thanksgiving prayer included many things as we thanked God for the gifts in our lives. When I failed to mention Ginger, she groaned with discontentment. I included her at the end. I hope everyone enjoyed a blessed and grateful Thanksgiving.
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