An emotional evening

 

My appetizer dip.
There are layers of hummus and yogurt under all the veggies.

If my friend Subie reads this, she will assume it was an emotional evening because we apparently got our wires crossed, and she and Phil did not appear for happy hour as anticipated. Too bad, because I made an extraordinary appetizer. And I was disappointed because I had new to share. So now I’ll share it with you.

Tomorrow morning a woman is bringing her dog, Benji, for a meet-and-greet. She and her family are moving into an apartment and cannot take the dog, though I sense that she is pretty much heartbroken about it. Benji is a border collie mix, on the small side (22 lbs.) which is good for us, He is two years old, crate-trained, house-trained, and apparently a low-key inside dog though he does need exercise. I called this morning to interview her about the dog, and she turned the tables and asked me lots of questions, beginning with had I ever had any animals? I surely could answer that in the affirmative. The one thing she asked that impressed me was about a regular veterinarian, and I was able to give her the name and phone number of the clinic where I have been taking animals since the 1970s—I have the second oldest record in their files, and the first is inactive.

I’m a bit anxious about tomorrow’s meeting. As I said to the kids tonight, it’s a bit like getting married: did I make the right choice? Of course nothing is carved in stone, and I am free to thank Mrs. Reed for bringing the dog and tell her no, thank you. And, truthfully, I wouldn’t be surprised if she gets cold feet and cancels. Meantime, the Burtons and I drew up a list of questions and brought Sophie’s crate into the cottage. If Benji and I mesh, the next few days will be interesting.

An odd side note: when Christian was a pre-teen, he was a child model and eventually starred in a TV series that featured a dog named Benji. That dog, however, did not look anything like this one.

But even that was not the crux of my emotional evening: Jordan and Christian took their kitten to the vet to have his claws trimmed. While there, they collected Sophie’s ashes. I have never before saved a dog’s ashes but always sent them to a pet cemetery. Jordan, however, is more sentimental—I guess that’s what you’d say. She has her father’s ashes in the kitchen and threatened to put Sophie next to him if I didn’t want her. On the other hand, my mother’s ashes are safely in a nearby cemetery. I just never thought of keeping ashes at home. So tonight they brought out a carefully thought-out package—papers with her paw print and nose print, a small framed paw print, a lovely wood box with the ashes, and little vials of her hair. It all absolutely undid me, and I began to cry. In fact, I’m tearing as I write this, and if the kids hadn’t been here, I would have cried uncontrollably.

Christian said he thought it right that Sophie be here tomorrow when a potential new dog arrives. Be still, my heart. More tears.

In other, more cheerful news, my grandson Kegan loved the U. of Arkansas in his visit today and, as his mom said, seems pretty much sold. It’s amazing how many kids with connections go there. Turns out Kristi Griesbach, Lisa’s lifelong friend, has a nephew there, and Jacob knows countless seniors who will enroll with him in the fall. And now it looks like I will have two grandsons there.

Because Arkansas is not a progressive state—how could it be with Sarah Huckabee at the helm?—I worry about such things as a DEI initiative (probably missing) and other issues, like abortion or support for Ukraine. I know college kids are pretty much oblivious to such matters, but then this is when their characters are shaped. My family would tell me to hush, and so I will.

We will all be on hand tomorrow (except Jacob who will be in school), and I’ll report. Meantime, sweet dreams!