My father hadn't thought that much of that dog. Even though he was a cat person, he didn't dislike all dogs. Just small, loud, annoying dogs. His nickname for this small, loud, annoying dog was "Worthless Dog." Mary took great enjoyment out of relating how, in their previous visit, my father had been staring at the dog for a while. Finally, he managed to get out the words. "Worthless dog."
The squirrels in the backyard were really busy. A pair in a tree were tussling. My mother said they usually didn't fight like that unless it was mating season and settled down in the recliner for a nap. I kept watching.
"... Oh, yeah, it's definitely mating season."
My father's brother had left for Georgia early that morning. Not having much imagination, my mother and I thought Whitey's sounded like a good idea for the second night in a row. Like I said, they have a huge menu and good food. They had fixed the Lobster Zone machine! Oh, no, I forgot my camera phone! No picture.
On the way back, my mother told the story of one of the times she lost her temper with the nurses at the hospital. "Well, your husband is verbally abusive to the nurses." "My husband has a brain tumor. Do you think he would be acting that way otherwise?"
If I had been in the room, I would not have been able to keep a straight face. My father has never been a patient patient, to say the least. Fortunately, this was a new hospital, so my mother could get away with that bald-faced lie.
I had both cats waiting on the bed, although when I had to move Coco to pull down the covers, he got huffy and left.
Bandit slept next to the pillow, although when he started his bath I had to rollover to escape the cat food breath fumes.
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