Squid reverie

December 29, 2009

Sounds strange, but the real holiday begins now. The one where I can be still and completely silent if I choose, just like my neighbourhood always is for these few days betwixt years.We’ve had the action/adventure component, and mighty fine it was too, but I like this one just as much.

The Curmudgeon has gone off on a country jaunt as a willing chauffeur for the reunion of an international visitor and their mutual friends. So it’s just been me and the pup this morning (oh, and Manuel, ever larger and handsomer, who was very well cared for while we were away and has shed another skin). I draped myself on the couch and devoured a novel in five hours straight. Squid plonked beside me on the floor or drifted between the concrete outside the back door (too hot!) and her cave under our bed (not sunny enough!). For a while there it felt just like the days after she arrived four years ago – exactly this time of year, the Curmudgeon too new to be a cohabitant and those disasterous housemates yet to move in, and a sweltering heatwave that rendered all activity other than couch-draping completely futile. She and I bonded steadfastly and quietly with her little brown body panting gently while exposing as much surface area as possible to the concrete slab beneath the worn carpet.

Back then we were just getting to know each other. Now I feel I know every knot, outcrop and whorl on her muscly little frame. The familiar waggle of her behind as she trudges down the hall makes me smile and the smell of her paws – a fragrance that can only be described as ‘derring-do’ – is one of the things I missed most while we were away.

When we showed up at Ma’s to collect her, she was pleased, but not over the moon. Immediately, however, she started padding around after us to ensure we never left her behind again.

Maybe next year we find a dog-friendly way to run away from Hexmas, hey Curmudgeon?


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