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The Business of Sharing


There has been a theme weaving through my life lately, a sharing theme. It actually works out quite well for me because for a short period of time I get all the pluses without any of the minuses.

For example, ever since my childhood hamsters mysteriously “ran away to the forest” and then my parakeets oddly did the same, I have always yearned for the companionship of a good pet, namely a dog.

I am torn between wanting a great, big dog that will circle me protectively while we walk through dicey neighborhoods, ready to gallop away with me should unexpected weapons be pulled, and small, bite-sized pups able to amuse themselves in one bedroom duplexes while their master toils away at work. For now, it looks as though I won’t be getting either kind for some time. So instead, I find myself at people’s houses, people I’ve just met once or twice before, helping Irene bathe their canine friends.

Unsuspecting of what is to come, little Toby stands at ease in the very center of what will soon be his demise.

Catching on quickly to what is about to happen once the water hits his fluffy, golden fur, he winces at the sound of the Lemon-Fresh Dog Wash squirting out of the bottle. He moves towards the edge, perhaps thinking in his desperation that the only way to salvation is to jump.

Resigned to being clean and smelling citrusy delightful, he decides to no longer put up a fight. Instead, his eyes flash with plans for sweet revenge. (Or perhaps he behaves well knowing he’s going to soon get a big juicy treat for all his suffering.)

Resentful of having to admit defeat, but fully aware of how his coat now positively glows and brings out the best in his eyes, Toby hops into his carry bag, ready for a night out on the town.

See? It is almost just like having my own Toby, except that if I hadn’t wanted to wash him, I wouldn’t have had to.

Also on my “Not-Going-To-Happen-Anytime-Soon” list is having a baby. This is even further down on the list than getting a dog for obvious reasons, like the fact that I’m not sure how well it would fly to have a mini-person in a cute blue carry bag hanging out on my desk.

But I can’t ignore the tugging at my heart strings whenever I walk through the baby clothes section at Target. Who doesn’t get mushy seeing shoes the size of one’s thumb?

Enter in playing with other people’s babies.

Is he not the cutest?
Well, you can’t see his feet. You would know for sure if you only just saw the over-stuffed, squishy extremities he has for feet.

Hayden likes Alan way less. But I don’t blame him. No one likes people who are so obviously trying to rip off their style with matching colors.

Last modified: January 10, 2019