We will enjoy our Thanksgiving dinner a day early for two reasons. One is because I will be working tomorrow. The second is so that Crawford can enjoy turkey for a few days. She's struggling. Not in pain, but beginning to show signs of additional complications. She's almost completely incontinent, and while she can't really hold stuff in anymore, she has trouble pushing it out, too. She has had two seizures this week and is beginning to stumble just occasionally with her front legs. Her back legs are long gone. I can tell she's frustrated. She's telling me she's ready. Actually, she's been telling me for some time, but I have selfishly wanted to keep her here with me. She's my girl. So we've arbitrarily chosen Saturday for her to leave us, to go hang out with grandpa (my dad), to keep him company until I get there. He loved all his furry grand kids, but Crawford was his favorite. Over the next few days, she gets turkey, ice cream... I'll probably share some pumkin pie with her tonight. Yes, with whipped cream. The past few days she's been treated to steak, salmon, mahi mahi (fish is her favorite) hamburger and all manner of crackers and cookies. Treats do make her happy. Her face lights up and she snaps the goodies our of your hand like a shark clamping onto a chubby diver.
So, I gotta go mash some taters. Friday's suppose to be my last day at work, yet I've already been asked to work three days in December. Still, the plan, beginning next week, is to settle into a writer's routine. The mornings will be devoted to dog walks and word-smithing. I'll take a break to work out somehow - some days the gym, others the pool - then back to the keyboard. Lose 20 lbs and write the great American short story (or two). How hard could that be?
Hope you all have a delicious, festive, gut-busting Thanksgiving, filled with laughter and hugs from loved ones.
A hui hou. Aloha!