Every First Friday our neighborhood comes alive with open houses in all the galleries and stores. Most of the stores, my mom points out, are pretty useless to us. I mean, we’re not about to buy a six thousand dollar sofa, are we? Not with the cats and me.
Our local pet shop, Bone Jour, had n rare open house for December’s first Friday. They had a raffle to support one of the many needy animal shelters.
We know shelters. My mom says the paperwork shows that I was in a shelter as a puppy but then I got lucky: I was adopted from a foster home. Creampuff spent three months in a shelter in New Mexico before my mom adopted her, but she’s too ditzy to care. Pumpkin also got lucky: she did some time in Animal Control till her foster mom, Karen, showed up and chose her. Pumpkin knows she is lucky. She just assumes the world was created for her to enjoy.
So I was not surprised when my mom donated to the raffle. She bought two tickets when they said they’d take her credit card. And then she forgot about it.
Last week we got a phone call. We won! I got a beautiful gift basket, filled with dog toys and treats and a couple of tennis balls to take to the park.
My mom was thrilled. “Best news I’ve had all week,” she said. “Um, I guess that means I need to get a life.”
“I’d be excited too,” the store person said tactfully.
So here I am accepting my basket – on the floor – and a treat. Notice how completely I am attuned on what I want. “What you focus on expands,” as the saying goes.
My mom disagrees. She says her luck is inversely proportional to her attention, whatever that means.
Who cares? I can’t wait to dive into that basket.