Early to bed, early to rise…..and I’m too sleepy to remember the rest.

I’m kidding. I’ve already had my first cup of coffee while reading Kilroy’s blog; then his comments on my own. In answer to your question, my friend, I don’t know why no-one else leaves a note. I know Karen reads, as does my daughter, but Shan’s system won’t allow it. Her employer has her behind a huge firewall because she uses her computer to work from home. Comments are always appreciated, of course, and I look forward to reading yours – it makes the writing feel worthwhile.

I need to leave for the office very soon to beat most of the rush hour. There is some urgent work to be done, then I’m to pick up Yoshiko and we’ll be joining most of the office staff for a day of training on the new Income tax program. It’s a full-day thing and, although I enjoy learning, I’m wondering if this tired old brain will be able to pay attention for so many hours at a time – plus I’ll be thinking about all the work waiting for us when we get back to the office tomorrow.. Ugh!

Here’s chapter 5 of the Bud Saga:

YOU WANT ME TO BABY-SIT WHAT??? - The event

“And how’s it going now? Did you clean up the mess you made on my floor?”

I wasn’t laughing. “Listen, my soon-to-be-EX-friend,” I answered. “I’m NOT amused!”

“Aw, come on. I’m only teasing you. It was probably Bud. He’s prone to doing the revenge thing. He’ll be peeved ‘cause I disappeared on him.”

“Really?” Sarcasm dripped from my voice. “And how long am I expected to put up with this?”

“I’ll know more in a couple of weeks. And I wanted to tell you….”
He continued, first apologizing for the last minute contact, then expressing his gratitude for my being there for his beloved dogs. He explained that his mother, Helen, would take care of all the expenses during my stay. If I needed anything I was to get in touch with her. He had a running bill with the veterinarian if, God forbid, the need arose. There was a bowl in the cupboard above the stove with money to purchase dog food, the brand, the feeding times, a summary of the idiosyncrasies of each dog. ”Bud likes cuddling. I sleep with him often on the couch. He bugs the older two, but they ignore him mostly, like a couple of grandfathers would a brat kid.” He finished by promising that he would compensate me for anything else on his return, and then added a warning.

“There’s a chain on the gallery. Bud hasn’t learned to stay in the yard. Maybe you better tie him up when you put him out alone. Don’t want him running around loose. He’s not road-savvy yet, and anyway, people tend to think the worst of pits. Somebody might take a shot at him.”

“That would be terrible!” Sarcasm again. He heard it. While he was answering, I was peering out the window, searching guiltily. Where was that little Sh*t anyway?

“Hey,” he said softly. “He’s a good dog. I’ll admit he’s high strung, but remember he’s still a puppy. Pits mature later…about two years old.” His voice was pleading now. “I really love that dog. He’s one of the best breeds I’ve ever had. The reason I wanted you to be there is because I’m sure you are the only one who will treat him right. I know how you are with Ben and Beef. You’ll learn to love Bud too. Give him a chance.”

Damn! He knew exactly how to grab me. I was the champion at giving chances, and I often paid for it in spades. However, it never seemed to dampen my optimism. Until I was proven wrong, I tended to give the benefit of doubt.

“Okay,” I grudgingly agreed. After all, two weeks was not the end of the world. Maybe I’d look into borrowing hockey pads….that should thwart any aggressive signs from the little Sh*t.

“How do I get in touch with you if I need to?” I jotted down the number he gave me, somewhat nonplussed when he added that it was for emergency only. I would not be able to reach him immediately if or when I called.

“It may take a day or two before I can reach a phone to call you back.” In the meantime, Helen lived only 20 minutes from the house. she was the stand-in. And she’s afraid of the pit, I thought silently.

As I hung up the phone I heard Beef‘s short bark. He and Ben were sitting patiently by the patio door, waiting to be let in. The pit wasn’t with them. I slid the door open and stuck my head outside. He was nowhere to be seen. Oh no!

“Where are you, you little Sh*t?” I yelled. Nothing. I walked onto the gallery, hugging myself, trying to keep warm in the winter’s bitter chill.

“Bud? Come here, Bud!” I yelled louder. Still no sign. A sinking feeling. Trying not to panic.

“Wait here,” I ordered the labs. They wagged their tails in unison, looking up at me expectantly. I rushed inside, grabbed my coat and pulled on boots and mittens. Talk about conflicting feelings! On one hand, the two week stay would be a lark if I only had Ben and Beef to handle and, after all, it was a belated warning I had been given. At the same time, I knew deep inside that I would never forgive myself if something happened to the pit while I was responsible for him, my friend’s reaction aside.

I hurried back out, slid the door closed, then motioned to the labs. “Come on, guys. Let’s go find him.”

They happily followed me down the gallery steps. After scanning the back property, all the time calling his name loudly, we made our way around the side of the house towards the front road. We still couldn’t see past the corner when I heard the loud blare of a horn, then the sound of a heavy vehicle skidding on the snow. The thud of it hitting the snow bank resounded clearly. My heart thumping wildly, I began to run.

(To be cont’d)


I’m off and running. Have a good day, y’all. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you to SMILE, but I will anyway. I just like the word, LOL!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec