sunshine on a cloudy day
It is a rare occurrence that you'll hear anyone say, "We had the best time; there was toxic algae and everything!"
Scratch that.
Until now, those particular words may not have ever been strung together in the history of spoken language. The sentiment is probably less likely once you throw in the browned, lifeless grass of August and storm-threatening clouds that, at times, looked as though they might devour us whole. Yet, despite the scorched earth, carnivorous sky, and homicidal waters, I've got to confess, we had the best day!
Labor Day weekend had the audacity to arrive without a shred of punctuality this year. Rude. More often than not, Maisie's birthday has come around somewhere in the span of that obligation-free period. But not this year. This year, our girl's special day fell on that most tragically unceremonious event known as Wednesday. Aside from possibly the eldest Addams spawn, I cannot imagine many would purposely plan a party for the middle of the workweek. For a senior dog who tires more quickly of late, the solution was simple: rather than rushing through the festivities in one evening, we'd give Miss Maisie Moon a two-part celebration the weekend before and the weekend after she officially turned eleven, ensuring that we had plenty of unhurried time to share with her and that she had enough energy for both exploration and package annihilation. It was--the nerd-averse might avoid uttering--a one-one situation.
On August's final weekend, we were met by two welcome surprises. 1.) After a merciless summer of household catastrophes and the resulting health consequences, we were all well enough to embark on an adventure for the first time in months. And 2.) the hottest month of the year delivered us a cool, overcast day during which the thermometer dallied at a mild sixty-three degrees.
We adorned our VIP (very important puppy) in a bright yellow bandana, loaded up the morning's supplies, and headed out to a strikingly silvery lake, which--while not silver on this particular occasion--did evoke the bubbling green contents of a witch's cauldron. Fear not, however, our beautiful baby did not plunge into the brew alongside toe of frog or eye of newt. Warning signs were posted around the perimeter to prevent any walking, talking ingredients from haphazardly mistaking the perilous potion for a pool. Not that Maisie would have leapt in anyway; she is of the unshakeable belief that any water that dares to touch her fur should face felony charges and be dammed to a life of captivity. (Like I could resist the pun. It was practically a shore thing.)
There was sniffing--lots of sniffing--and smiles that beamed more luminously than the sun. We walked for a couple of hours, taking frequent breaks to rest our pup's joints and savor the fresh, clean air and sullied--yet still lovely--views. The bridge, alas, was closed, so, rather than crossing over the lake, we followed a narrow trail into the woods, spotting, among other natural wonders, the first signs of autumn in the form of yellow, orange, and red leaves high up in the tangled branches, along with the forest's own original art installation--a mossy stump that looked remarkably like a sitting dog with all four limbs stretched out ahead of him. There were even two indentations that resembled eyes. Amazing! The limited number of other lake guests lingered at the playground or the piers, while a few brave souls enjoyed the water from the questionable safety of paddle boards and canoes. We, however, stuck to the green--or what used to be green--overlooking the green that, by all accounts, should have been silver.
The dark clouds, the algae blooms, they were dreary as could be at the park that day, but our hearts were full all the same. With our beloved companion festooned in a cheery scarf--happiness radiating from her every expression--we certainly didn't need sunshine from above. We'd gratefully brought our own.
My Girl song lyrics, ©William "Smokey" Robinson and Ronald White
Part one of this year's birthday extravaganza concluded in blissful triumph...and a very long catnap for our very uncatlike canine. Part two, alas, would have to wait another week.
With the contents of the back bedroom still stacked and scattered throughout the living room, it required the whole of this past Saturday morning to clear enough space for gift opening and interactive play. But, somehow, before the chores were done, Maisie had deduced the purpose behind the sudden flurry of activity. With renewed vigor, her tail swished through the air, accelerating in time with her prancing paws and burgeoning grin. I kissed her on the head and said, "Happy Birthday, baby," and her suspicions were confirmed: presents were imminent. Maisie, it should be noted, adores presents! They are one of the few things that can compete with the mouthwateringly magnificent marvel that is cheese.
Though we've never counted them, Maisie has collected an impressive stash of toys, overflowing two wooden crates, one medium rope basket, and a whopping thirty-gallon basket as well. Sure, we only have ourselves to blame, but it does make finding new and exciting playthings a challenge. This summer I discovered a company called Playology that manufactures scented dog toys to inspire longer play. First I researched to make sure no chemicals or essential oils or other hazardous ingredients were used to create the scents. What I learned was that they infuse actual food molecules into the toy to make it smell like chicken or bacon or peanut butter. Natural. Safe. Perfect. I selected a very hairy elephant that smells like the creamy stuff. We call her Peanut. While I don't think the scent has tempted our girl to play with this plush more than any other, she does seem very fond of her new friend, as well as the orange cat named Mango that was subsequently freed from his paper prison with maniacal enthusiasm. The unwrapping, after all, is half the fun. A few savory Maple Bacon Kissies followed, along with ample one-on-one time that included a daring pyramid historically only attempted by the bravest and most agile of animals. Our precious girl, she just smiled, absolutely content to curl up with her new toys and allow Mommy to take yet another series of sweet and silly pictures.
The skies may have darkened on one weekend and wept on the next, but right here, right now, in our humble abode, we've got laughter, we've got love. We've got endless sunshine on every cloudy day determined to come our way.
My Girl song lyrics, ©William "Smokey" Robinson and Ronald White