Hubbie here.
It was Saturday morning and Pauline was sleeping late. Actually I slept late too but she is sleeping later. I made coffee. While pouring the water in the pot I made eye contact with Lewy. It was Lewy because his voice was loud and clear.
“Do You have a pocket Knife?”
“Yeah. Somewhere. Why?”
“Didn’t you hear it?”
“Hear what?”
“That fart”
“The fart?”
“Yeah.”
“No. I missed that one.”
“Well it was a long one.” Raising his arm above his head Lewy got a huge grin on his face and continued. “It started way over here” pointing to his right, “and wound up down the road way over there”, his arm stretched out in a long arc moving across to point out the window. “I was in June’s driveway at the time and she umm grumple zima duble non.”
“She what?”
Still grinning Lewy replied, “I’ll tell you about it next time.”
“OK. Want some water?”
“Yeah.” I went to get the water and Lewy called me back.
“You know we had two blow outs and then there weren’t no bricks left anymore.”
“Hmm. That’s too bad. I’ll go get the water.”
In the kitchen I got Lewy’s water and poured myself some coffee. I looked up and he had raised his bed sheet high in the air. He pulled it up and laid it down over his face. With one hand he washed his face with the sheet, groaning loudly the entire time. As I got back with his water he pulled the sheet down and pointed to the ceiling near the door.
“That was the frequent sound.”
“The frequent sound?”
“Yeah. It sounds just like that. You can just imagine that coming on and running for five minutes.”
“Yeah. Here’s your water.” While Lewy drank from the turkey baster I wondered if sometimes when he moans that, to him, the sound comes from outside himself. That would at least explain why it was a frequent noise. With one cup of water done, I went back to the kitchen for another. As I got back to Lewy’s bed a large truck went by on the road below the house.
“Someone’s here”
“Nah. It’s just a car on the road.”
“Up on the mountain?”
“Well, actually a little below us but …………close enough.”
“Nobody farted then.”
“I guess not.”
“Except for the beginner.”
“Yeah? Well they do need to practice. Have some more water.”
Lewy finished the water and I wiped his face. He looked at the towel and then at me.
“Is the end of that towel about half wet?”
“No but it could be. You want me to wet it for you?”
“No, I just wanted you to know in case you ran into it.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
5 comments:
kddove said...
my louie (lucy) passed on this morning. 13 days away from being 18 years old.... gone on to doggie heaven, i suppose. can i go with her?
Hubbie said...
I am so sorry to hear that kddove. Even at that age it is tough to say good-bye. You must, however, stay here and, at some point, find another puppy to save and to love. Lucy would like that.
Anonymous said...
Stella here; Kdove I, too, am sorry to learn of your loss. It hurts, doesn't it? But my, so many wonderful memories. I do hope Mr Lewy's four legged friends will stay around with him for a while longer. I know you feel the same.
pearose said...
kddove,
So sad. My vet swore to me that my lost one would be at the Rainbow Bridge and I'm holding her to that, because I want to see my baby again. Hopefully, you'll see yours again, too. It makes the separation bearable. Fortunately, I have three best friends still to care about. I hope your pain eases quickly.
Pauline said...
Geez. I'm really sorry kddove. I still occassionally tear up over critters I had 30 years ago. Lucy is no longer in pain. At least there is that much.