Pets and Trips

Leaving Again?

Leaving Again?

Do you ever wonder what it is about an upcoming trip that pets can sense?  Perhaps they pick up on clues like the suitcase coming out from storage and the general increase in activity (and nervous tension) on the part of their owners.  I only know that little Toto has been sticking closer to me than a tick on a coonhound.  In fact, she’s been so incredibly underfoot this past week that there have been numerous times when I’ve almost fallen over her as I’ve walked from room to room or turned around to step away from a counter.

Won't I Fit?

Won’t I Fit?

On the best of days, Toto can be clingy but this upcoming trip has her REALLY sticking like glue.  Perhaps it is the fact that I just returned last month from a two week trip without her.  Of course, her “Daddy” stayed home with her but Dad is not Mom.  You know how that goes, even with fur kids.  Maybe it is the fact that she senses my ambivalence about leaving her yet again.  I don’t like leaving my dog behind.  She’s my constant companion and I really miss her when we’re apart.  Then again, she might just be picking up on my own nervousness about the trip in general.

I hate flying so that always starts me off on the wrong foot and then, when I get down to this particular destination (my son’s home), my self-confidence always decides to leave me and head back up north, leaving me in the lurch yet again.  My counterparts down there are very wonderful people.  They’re great hosts, athletic, fit, super grandparents, …I could go on.  Basically they are all the things that I’m either not or that I struggle to try to be.  And to top it all off, just when my ego is on shaky ground, I get the haircut from , well, you know where, today.

Bless You, My Child?

Bless You, My Child?

Honestly, I look like a friar.  Put a long brown robe on me and give me a crucifix and just call me Friar Tuck.  I wouldn’t be surprised if people at the airport next week take one look at me and suddenly get an overwhelming urge to go to confession.  Thank goodness that I don’t have a round bald spot on top.  This was supposed to be a slight trim of my bob haircut to just below the ears.  Uh-huh!  Either my ears have slipped an inch and a half since this morning or something went dreadfully wrong here.

Bummer!

Bummer!

In the meantime, Toto doesn’t want to hear my troubles.  She has troubles of her own.  Her mommy is leaving her yet again.  “Come on, Toto!  Let’s go cuddle up on the couch and drown our sorrows with some lemonade and a good movie.”  Maybe my hair will grow a couple of inches and I’ll lose 40 pounds by Tuesday.  You never know.  Miracles happen every day.

 

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