By Rose Padrick
My sisters fiancé has a new love. It weighs about as much as a pair of socks, leaves little surprises, and has the biggest brown eyes the good Lord ever put on a creature.
He’s a beautiful, little dog, but there are limits to which most of us will go.
Most of us love our pets in a petsy kind of way. We take them to the Vet when sick and for shots, we walk, play with, and snuggle with our furry friends, but we do NOT buy doggie decongestant and special tissues when they have the sniffles. Nor do we make huge pots of chicken soup that take a whole morning to prepare, not just any chicken soup mind you, but POLISH chicken soup.
Not only did I not know dogs even got the sniffles, I’m still wondering why it was so important to make POLISH soup when the dog is a CHINESE Crested Powder Puff.
My sister is a very tolerant person, growing up in the Big Apple you really learn the meaning of “It takes all kinds” and she loves the little fellow too, but she stopped allowing her fiancé to go shopping alone when he went looking for puppy slippers so MeeTu’s little feet wouldn’t get wet when he goes outside in the earling mornings. I think she’s afraid he’s going to come home with a tiny fur coat.
A few weeks ago my sister became very ill on a weekend and had to go to the emergency department.
Her fiancé stayed by her side and to his credit I understand he did not mention the puppys name once the whole time, but he blew it when I asked what kind of chicken soup he was going to make this time, and he replied “I don’t need to make more, there’s still half a pot of MeeTu’s left.”
I tried to explain who the Dixie Chicks were and their song about a man named Earl who underestimated sisters, but I don’t think he got it.
My sister just called, she wants me to help her pick out a new car, one with a big trunk.
Dennis, I really hope you made the soup.