When Cathy adopted me, she said nothing about Mother’s Day obligations. As the resident dog, my job is to keep my mom’s life in perspective. When she gets too involved in work, it’s up to me to say, “Let’s go for a walk.” I even escalate my demands to, “I need a walk NOW. The computer will have to wait.”
So my mom came home from the gym and the massage therapist, all relaxed and ready to join me in a nap. “My fitness instructor reminded us that Sunday is Mother’s Day,” she said. “Are you planning a surprise for me?”
Good grief. What will these humans do next? As a dog, I can’t order flowers online. I guess it’s business as usual. Mom goes to the gym. I go to the Downtown Dog Lounge for a party with Summer and the rest of the staff.
The cats have their own style of gift-giving. Ophelia plans to toss up a perfect hairball.
If I were you, Mom, I’d drop the H-word “holiday” altogether. When you have a dog, every day’s a great one.