Happy Mother's Day

I love holidays.  Who wouldn’t?  Holidays come with the guarantee that at least one of three things will happen.  Number one, people will come over to pet the dog (can’t beat that!).  Number two, presents wrapped in brightly colored paper will be exchanged (the paper, of course, will be shredded by the dog).  Number three, tasty food will be made and hopefully shared (or stolen) by the dog.  Needless to say, it’s great to be the dog!  Well, yesterday was Mother’s Day and this holiday arrived with two of the three aforementioned promises.

Ma's Mother's Day gift

First, there were presents.  I was really excited about this part of the day because I remembered that Pa had helped me to pick out the perfect gift for Ma: a big stuffed rabbit with long ears, multiple squeakers, and a pink tongue that stuck out.  Adding to the enjoyment of the gift was the addition of the colorful paper Pa had wrapped it in (wrapping gifts isn’t my forte…tissue and wrapping paper gets stuck on my tongue).  As soon as Ma opened the present I quickly snatched it (plus a little wrapping paper) from her hands.  I knew that it was my responsibility to show her how to properly play with this new gift (it’s not like it came with instructions or anything).   I showed her how to shake the toy while running, I showed her how to roll on her back and chew on the squeaker, and finally I showed her how to let other people check out the toy without actually letting them touch it (you look with your eyes not with your hands after all).  After some time, and much consideration, I determined that Ma wasn’t quite ready for the responsibility of playing with such a cool toy so I decided to hold onto it for the rest of the day.

Later, Pa started making dinner.  At first, nothing seemed special; he started the barbeque and took some stuff out of the refrigerator.   Then he took a strange shaped package from the fridge.  It smelled really good and looked really weird.  It kind of looked like a giant hand but it smelled like fish.  Pa told me that it was crab or the fish half of fishsteak (known to the humans as surf ‘n turf).  I followed that crab everywhere:  I lay on the floor by the kitchen counter and glared lovingly up at it, I followed it and Pa to the grill where it cooked and I drooled, and I took my place on the floor next to Ma’s chair when the cooked crab was placed on the table.  And then I waited.  As the minutes passed I became more and more depressed.  How could my humans eat such tasty smelling food and not share it with the cute little dog with big brown eyes—especially after I devoted so much of my time to teaching Ma how to play with that really cool rabbit toy?  “Come on,” I thought, “what’s one little leg?”  Just as I was about to give up all hope, Pa leaned down and gave me a piece of crab.  It was so tasty and that was even without butter!

Ahh…what a holiday!