I just found out that I need to go away during an upcoming weekend. Travel always presents a problem, because Kate can't go with me.
I have to find a kennel or someone who will take care of her. Such is my lot in life.
On a recent vacation, a friend who shall remain nameless, was gracious enough to stay at my place while I was gone and take care of the pooch. Upon my return, both Kate and my friend seemed none the worse for wear. That was great.
So, when faced with the prospect of taking another brief jaunt away from the homestead and man's best friend, I turned once again to my nameless friend.
The weekend is somewhat problematic because it involves a major holiday, but my friend said that there would be nothing that would prevent her from keeping Kate fed and walked.
I agreed, saying that should my friend need to, shall we way, stretch the schedule to allow for more time to revel in the holiday, that Kate would manage quite well, thank you.
Kate is, shall we say, low maintenance.
My anonymous pal concurred, saying, "With Kate, it's like taking care of a plant."
Well.
Needless to say, when I told Kate about the conversation, she stared blankly at me.
I could tell the characterization cut her to the quick.
Does a plant come to the door to greet you after a long day's toiling?
No.
OK, and sometimes neither does Kate.
Does a plant crawl up on the bed and keep you warm at night?
No.
Well, lately Kate's been jumping off the bed in the middle of the night and going to sleep on her pallet. I just assumed I've been taking up too much room.
Does a plant sit directly in front of the television and stare at you?
No.
Obviously I've been ignoring Kate.
The comparison of my beloved doggie to a plant is vile and undeserved.
Nameless friend, you'll get no T-shirt from the big city of Cleveland.
But please remember to give her 1 cup of dry food with a little moist food twice a day and don't forget the two pills every morning. They are chewable.
