I know such despicable and ineffective words coming from a writer’s mouth. However, I must delve into the world of lesson plans, IEP’s, calm the fears of parents, ready children for those useless tests ‘they’ insist we give, love, nurture, mother… after two and a half weeks off I do declare I am not ready! Excuse me for opening the day so grouchy and cantankerous! It’s typically not my nature, but it is today!
However, to switch gears I thought I’d post a story from my book that is contracted to be published: My Life as a Dog...resting on its shoulders the entry will not only to add a brightness to my day but it will also give a flavor to several of you who have asked what the book is about. The stories and excerpts are written on the everyday, mundane world of our golden retriever’s life.
My Life as a Dog….and the 12 Step Program~
Okay, I’m a lost and broken dog. I have a terrible confession: I have a sock fetish which according to the dictionary means an obsessive or unhealthy preoccupation or attachment with an object.
But there, I said it and often heard that the first step in overcoming an addiction is to admit I have a problem. It is a terrible problem. I can’t get enough socks which is even more of a problem because they aren’t my socks! Well, they eventually become my socks because I chew and tear so many holes in them that no one can wear the foot coverings by time I’m done with them, but that’s beside the point. You see, they are my family’s socks. I can’t help myself and I am so ashamed of myself. Whenever I see a sock in the laundry basket I have to go grab it, stretch it until I hear that priceless sound ripping; AAHHHH, a sound of satisfaction! Tear it, shred it, and grate it; that is when they are at their best!
I like to get into Big Daddy’s running shoes and even though he has tucked them deep into the toe of the shoe, I stick my nose in until I can reach just a teensy-weensy thread and pull it out. Yeah, I know, the smell is pretty unpleasant and you’d think that would deter me, but I guess that tells you how desperate my dilemma is.
I’ve even been known to chase Little Daddy around the house when he’s taking his shoes off so I can grab a sliver of the cloth and help in pulling it off his foot. If I do that, then at least the taste is in my mouth and there’s a better chance I can keep it since I put the entire sock in my jawbone and slobber all over it. They don’t like to touch it when it is coated with dribble. Then, I dash into my favorite upstairs hiding place; under the bed. I know, I know, I’m a big dog but I can still fit under the bed and no one comes in after me. The beauty of that is they know I have the upper hand so they go to the cabinet in the bathroom and get a biscuit to entice me to come out. When I hear that box, I immediately go to my bed, the heck with the sock!…a quest for a later time and date. Besides, I have the best of both worlds; a biscuit AND the sock!
Yes, it is true. I go to great lengths to feed my addiction; I follow Nee Nee up the stairs biting at her heals until she gives them up, or until I trip her. Sorry, Nee Nee! Or, I stand on my hind legs at the washer and dryer searching for strays, and I park myself politely at the dryer while clothes are being folded to quickly grab one that may fall on the floor. I’m getting’ pretty good at ‘Snatch-and-Go’s’.
So while I’ve admitted my compulsion I’m not ready to follow Step 6 OR Step 7; were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character and humbly ask God to remove my shortcomings …ummm, should I? …NAAAHHHHH, I like socks too much and how else can I keep my family entertained by my antics?
I love this life…