Once a week, Mom tries to carve out one-on-one quality time for each of us fur kids. Today was my day. It has been cold here in Florida lately, so Mom bundled me up in my pink daisy sweater and pink collar so I would be color-coordinated for my outing. We were ready for our ride in the car to do a few errands in town. I settled in to my fuzzy pet booster seat next to Mom and off we went. All of my foster brothers and sisters were envious, but we’ve come to accept the “rotation” system. (Think “The Bachelor”). One of my brothers has a tinge of separation anxiety and we could hear him howling as we backed down the driveway until the garage door closed. He can be so melodramatic at times.
On our way, upbeat music blared on the radio. “I’m walkin’ on sunshine…and whoo whoo…don’t it feel good?!?” We stopped by the Post Office to check our rescue group P.O. Box. Nope, nothing today. Then it was off to the vet clinic to replenish our supply of heartworm and flea preventatives. Gosh darn, that stuff is expensive, but Mom says it’s a small price to pay to ensure we remain healthy. Since she does not like leaving any of us in the car for more than 3 minutes, Mom dashes in and out of the buildings with checklist in hand. My favorite vet tech came out to say hi and pat me on the head, then waved good-bye. “Take care, HoneyBear”. Mom made a phone call and I could tell this would be our final stop the minute we pulled in to the store’s driveway. Those scrumptious smells wouldn’t lie to this nose…PIZZA!!!. Driving home with that box on the back seat was the ultimate challenge to my good nature. I kept turning around and shaking like little Chihuahuas do when we get all excited. Yep, it wasn’t going anywhere; still there temping me.
Mom sat at the kitchen table with three slices of pizza and a Coke. Some of us quietly parked ourselves in our cuddle beds at her feet while others watched from equally excellent vantage points. She’s taught us well. Yet how she can eat and digest her food properly with all of those eyes staring at her is beyond me. Mom has proven to be pretty much disciplined about not giving us people food, and we learned early on that begging gets us nowhere. However, on this cool cloudy day, Mom ever-so-slowly began to tear small pieces off the final slice of pizza... and wait-a-minute…she was saying our names. “Cricket sit. Good girl”. “Jasper sit. Good boy”. “HoneyBear sit.” (Mom, I AM sitting.) “Good girl”. Yum-yum. I think Sausage and Mushroom Supreme has got to be my very most favorite!
We’ve all been sworn to secrecy and absolutely cannot tell Dad that Mom was a softy today. My lips are sealed. But I can still taste cheese.
Luv ~ HoneyBear
