Writing is like being able to put life into a snow globe. It takes the things that are too big and scary and reduces them into a form that I can put away when I want and look at from a distance. It also takes all that’s good in life and captures it into something I can take out when I want and look at close up and keep forever. It makes the bad things into something I can hold…and the good things into something I can hold onto. Both help so much that I need that little souvenir of life.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Stuff from Around My House: OVER-Stuff

As I’ve mentioned before, our beloved lab mix, Buddy, turned 14 last April. Of course he is the resident spoiled child who gets more excited about Christmas than anyone in our family, but like most elderly loved ones, it’s hard to know what gifts to get him. His digestive system can’t take a lot of variety as far as treats are concerned, and his toys are everywhere. So I’ve taken to giving him beds. To keep the whole thing cushiony enough for his aging frame, I got into the habit of just stacking the beds from year to year. At the very top, I throw a rug over the whole thing to make it easier to wash.

Last year Santa tried giving him those little stairs to help him climb into human beds. The only traffic the stairs saw was from people trying to lure him up with dog biscuits. Buddy learned that the stairs were really weird dog biscuit dispensers.

This year Santa outdid himself with the reasoning that we could streamline the dog’s giant pile of bedding. The box pretentiously declared it the “Dogpedic Sleep System,” constructed of five inches of supportive, orthopedic memory foam. It was the biggest gift under the tree. The human members of the family, at least, were very impressed. After a ceremonious unwrapping (during which the gift recipient himself paid absolutely no attention, distracted as he was with eating and then yakking up a gift tag), we all took turns curling up on The Dogpedic, unanimously pronouncing it more comfortable than our own beds.

Buddy was less than impressed, however. His old bed sags in the middle. In human world this might be a bad thing, but in dog world, I see now that this was actually the goal. That work-in-progress has literally shaped itself into a custom made nest.

The fancy-schmancy Dogpedic Sleep System? After much trial and error, it simply got added to the bottom of the stack, just like every other year. My daughter recently surveyed the whole conglomeration, which is well over a foot tall, and pronounced it “The Princess and the Pea” bed. Yes. That’s it all right, even though I actually pitched two of the nastier layers. It’s hard to see, but the Dogpedic is the lowermost of four beds. So here is Princess-Pea-in-the-Pod himself…perched atop (or should I say, “within?”) the official Budpedic Sleep System.

Snug as a Bud in a Rug.

What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other. ~George Eliot


  1. Isn't it funny? Dogs are happy with the same food every day, they are thrilled to be able to "yak up" a gift tag, they're quite content to have the old bed that they've worn out and molded until it's like an old friend...

    It sounds like your family is lucky to have Buddy, and Buddy is lucky to be a member of your family.

    Here's hoping 2011 is a good one (and no more dangerous quiche for us--it didn't stop me from eating it, either)!

  2. Aww, Tammy, this is precious. May Buddy have pleasant dreams on his bunk. Old dogs are the best, they have years of knowing how to control us.

  3. Oh, sweet Buddy! Your entire post got me misty-eyed.....

  4. Thanks to all of you! You're right--old dogs ARE the best. Happy 2011!

  5. Indy will climb to the very top of a pillow pile before lying down every time. I think Princess and the Pea describes this phenomenon quite well.


  6. It is a phenomenon, isn't it? Thanks, Pat and Lynn!


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