Tag Archives: Teddy

When I Was Four-Feet Tall, It Was a Very Good Year

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAFAEL!

To my dear dear nephew,

You are delightfully too young to realize it, but one day you will be delightfully old enough to remember the Olden Days.

One day, when you are ancient like me, a boy who is new like you will ask when you were born. And you’ll say “2010.” And his eyes will widen. He may whistle. And he will say “Wow, you don’t look old.”

And you can smile, and thank him (you have always been gorgeous, and will hear that often). And you can tell him this about the year of your birth:

  • The iPad was invented.
  • J.D. Salinger died.
  • The New Orleans Saints won the Super Bowl (though it coulda been Indy).
  • The average house cost $268,000.
  • A gallon of gas cost $2.73, bread was $2.49 a loaf and a pound of potatoes cost an average of 52 cents.

But that won’t really tell him what the Olden Days were like. That wasn’t really life in The Tens (use that term, just to blow his mind). To do that, you can tell him — as can all generations to the ones that follow — this:

“The Olden Days were wondrous, full of hugs and kisses, dancing and playing, smiles and laughter (so much laughter!).


“Of friends that would fight for you. Of family that would die for you. kidsRafiRomeo

“Why, in the Olden Days, a boy could turn six and lose count of all the creatures who loved him, thought of him, big and small.

“The Olden Days were sparkly, golden days.

“Like today.”

— uncle scott and the Hounds of Love

 

 

Watch Your Mouth, Sonny

 

I really should learn Spanish.

About all I know is hola, adios and Lo siento por los perros (Sorry about the dogs.).

I could have used a Spanish lesson today, at Ralph‘s. Mom has taught me to appreciate the affordable things in life, and I’ve found a wine so cheap I’d hesitate to call it low brow, lest it imply it’s got a brow. It can be found at your finer 7-11s, Circle Ks and Kum & Gos (a real chain, I swear.).

kumngo

I was looking for my cheap swill today when a woman tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to find a diminutive elderly Hispanic woman, saying something in Spanish. She didn’t have a shopping cart, just a five-pack of Bic lighters in one hand.

She said something that I assume was akin to “Would you please help me reach something?” But knowing nary a Spanish vowel, she may have been saying, ‘Yo, gringo cracker, I need something.’

And after what happened, I kind of hope she did.

I shook my head at her words, told her I didn’t understand Spanish (oh yeah, another term you have to know here). She took me by the arm, led me to the Coors beer refrigerator, and pointed to drinks on the top shelf, beyond her reach.

Already, I was tickled at the notion that granny needed to get her drink on. Then I fell more deeply for her.

I touched a 12-pack. 12 packShe shook her head, nodded left.

I touched a six-pack. sixpackShe shook her head, nodded left.

 

Finally, I touched a tall can of Coors light, the biggest can in the fridge.

can

She nodded, beckoned for it. I brought it down, then asked the final word I know in Spanish: “Uno?”

She nodded and, without word, padded toward the checkout. Bics in her left hand, a Coors Light in her right. And my mind collapsed on itself with questions: Was she getting it for her husband? (Probably not, unless she’s put him on a limit.); Was this her way of unwinding?; does she enjoy the NFL playoffs with some smokes and brew?

I knew the answers none, but it was fun to picture her kicking back, making smoke rings and burping. And reminded me; I’ve got to learn the Spanish translation of “Ma’am, you are one of the coolest badasses I ever met.”

 

The Cost of Love

 

Teddy, I swear to god, sometimes that dog…

whyyoulittle_c

So he’s always eaten weird things at the house. He once took two TV remote controls while I was out of town, chewed on them a bit, and left them under a sprinkler for two days (somehow, they still work).

Another time, when he learned he could use his height to his fiendish advantage, he ate an entire chocolate brownie, requiring a late-night scramble to the emergency room of my vet.

teddyatcounter

But cotton. Teddy always cottoned to cotton.

Paper. Underwear. Sweatpants. Bath robes.

Then he took a hankering for, of all things, money. And, apparently, the bigger the bill, the better. When I left a $5 and $1 bill on the foyer table, he ate the $5, in half as precisely as a frog dissection. The $1 was left untouched.

This week, Teddy went for the big score.

I got up about 9 a.m., padded toward the living room. As I opened the bedroom door, I discovered my floor tiled in plastic: credit cards, driver’s license, insurance card. It had been three days since he’d been home, thanks to a quick trip to Atlanta.

And I realized: He ate my wallet. Must have smelled the billfold (perhaps a bouquet of  ass and leather?), decided it was a premium rawhide, and ate my wallet. At least he left me my driver’s license, but it was a lot of cash: $164 from the trip. Seven $20 bills, a $10, two $5 bills and four $1 bills (my obsessive compulsive urges demand I order my bills, largest to smallest, and I remembered ordering the stack before the flight).

Then, a break in the case: The ID cards led me on a bread-crumb trail to my wallet, tucked in the cushions of my black leather couch (how he has not passed that through his bowels remains a mystery).

Or what remained of my wallet. Teddy went to town on it.

But when I opened the wallet, the biggest surprise: He left me the four $1 bills.

Mom suggested I check Teddy’s poop for the money, and couldn’t help but crack I could still try to spend it (just lay a turd on the counter at 7-11 and ask for change for a $20).

Yet, I can never hold a grudge against the guy, who simply wants to taste the world.

at pool

After a few choice words for him, Teddy took a timeout in the backyard.

Normally, this would not be punishment for him, so thick his coat. He’ll often nap outside to enjoy the winter air, a stark difference from the boiler room Esme and I tend create inside the house.

esmecold

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But if he sees me — anywhere — he wants to be there, too. I’ve seen him sit in the rain when I’m in the backyard. My house is a sauna, but he pants his way through without complain. He leaps into any car I’m driving with unwarranted confidence, unrestricted trust.

dogs in car

And now, he is at the back patio door, awaiting forgiveness and re-entry. He must know me inside out: I could never stay mad at Ted. Not even for $160 cash. I still melt when I think of what that boy has brought to my life.

Teddy, I swear to god, sometimes that dog…

teddy mug