the top ten
In the tenth year of my existence, Diana Ross' Upside Down topped the charts, Americans eagerly gave up their Friday nights to Dallas (I confess, I still neither know nor care who shot J.R.)--and the Rubik's Cube had become a global sensation among kids and grown-ups alike. I had one way back then too, and, yes, I solved it. Multiple times...possibly because I wasn't busy watching Dallas. Also, notorious nerd. It's conceivable I could have solved it upside down while breakdancing to Upside Down, though I very much doubt it. The garbage being hurled at my bumbling performance would have surely proven too distracting. Nerdy introverts of the era didn't, as a rule, dance much at all, let alone breakdance, not even when riding the sugar high of too many Pixy Sticks. We conquered the Rubik's Cube instead and made up stories to tell the mice in the field behind our homes. (Or maybe that latter part was only me.)
Now my little girl--my genius shepherd-beagle mix (who would, given the opportunity, also communicate with mice)--has marked her tenth year as well, and, among today's top ten are plenty of indicators that I am less hip than ever: a song I've never heard by an artist whose name does not ring a bell, a television show that hasn't even crossed my radar, and some sort of weird dolls that are, frankly, kind of creepy, like the Monchichis, a herd of were-rabbits, and Maurice Sendak's Wild Things got completely hammered in the woods one night and spawned an accidental hybrid generation of these toothy gits.
For the record, I actually adore Sendak's illustrations, even if I do believe cross-breeding them with Monchichis and were-rabbits resulted in some frightening genetic mutations. But I digress.
When it comes to trends, I may not be in tune with the top ten anything anymore, but I do know what's important, and the top of my list this very day is Maisie's tenth birthday...and my girl's understandable inclination to pass the time napping. Today is a period of restorative relaxation for a ten-year-old dog recovering from yesterday's furry fiesta.
The question of Labor Day walkies proved something of a conundrum. Dennie and I thought we should take her, because she loves it. We thought we shouldn't take her, because she'd be too tired to enjoy her celebration. Ultimately, we couldn't bear to deny her the simple pleasure of ostensibly sniffing every single blade of grass and mailbox post in the neighborhood. And, sure enough, she was sleepy for the rest of the day, yet not so sleepy she couldn't have fun. Bellingham is known as The City of Subdued Excitement; replace the word "city" with "party", and that's what we had going on here with our semi-fatigued pup: subdued excitement.
After a post-walk breakfast and a post-breakfast nap, we took the party outside. Maisie cheerfully awaited every treat, and she was thrilled to rip into each of her presents, utterly unconcerned by their festive Christmas wrappings. (We'd run out of everything else.) She didn't play as long or as energetically as she has in the past, though she was clearly happy just to be there, to hang out with her family and to acquaint herself with new summer-themed plush friends--a rope-tug alligator donning a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt (as any fashionable alligator would) and a super soft, cuddly dog with his waggly tail sticking out of removable plaid swim trunks. Being the excellent sport that she is, Maisie even courteously obliged when asked to model Mommy's new seasonal hat. And, oh! Forgive my gushy mom-ness, how precious she looked in it! Then the temperatures outside became unbearable. We retreated to the air-conditioned living room where the birthday girl joyfully awaited a cooling, doggie-safe ice cream, the kind of dessert that, for Maisie, makes any day a holiday.
For a large-breed dog, ten is a significant milestone. And, like every birthday--past, present, and future--it is an event to be met with not just love, but gratitude that we share our home and our lives with this magnificent girl by our sides. Birthdays are special, indeed, but, when it comes to the top ten of our daily existence, it doesn't take an extraordinary occasion or a ratings agency to tally the figures, to conclude who steadfastly dominates the number-one spot in our hearts. It will never be a song, a show, a fad, but rather a love that knows no bounds, adorably wrapped in floppy-eared, bright-eyed, wet-nosed, slobbery-jowled, waggly-tailed fur. (Sometimes with a hat on top.)
