Buster’s Better Than a Magic Eight Ball Any Day
Posted by Moose on November 18th, 2008. Filed under: Love.Filled with an overwhelming malaise of the soul (also known as hormones) and precisely zero desire to go out on Friday night, I popped a frozen pizza in the oven and looked at the small chihuahua skittering around the kitchen floor by my feet.
“I’m going to die alone, Buster.”
Buster hopped up and put his front paws on my leg to comfort me. I was touched until I realized that he wasn’t interested in providing sympathy so much as he was in sticking his little snout into the leftover gingerbread wedding cake I was holding. The cake is a quickly vanishing remnant of his owners’ recent nuptials and I am caring for the miniature mutt while they’re in Thailand for their honeymoon.
As much as I love going to weddings and watching someone’s drunk Great Aunt Gertrude do a tap dance on the back table a la the Ziegfield Follies, the merriment is sometimes followed by the stomach-twisting grip of Everyone Is Married, Engaged, or Living With Someone and Boy, Does That Make Me Wonder Where I Went Wrong. (It’s a valid medical condition, I swear.) (Symptoms include feeling like someone is stepping on your small intestine.)
I think I would be happy alone. One of my greatest talents is my ability to amuse myself, so really, I’d have quite an entertaining life. And I can say this because I have no intention of actually letting it happen. I suspect I will be so far polarized from alone I will think fondly of the days when I could hold a slice of gingerbread cake in my hands and be pestered only by a small chihuahua rather than four grandchildren, two dogs, and one turtle. And an aging husband who wants a roast beef sandwich. But there are moments when you wonder, especially since the Magic Eight Ball has been on the fritz since 1992. (“Will Adam ask me to the seventh grade dance?” Signs point to yes, MY ASS.)
Luckily for Buster, he gets all my attention. We drove out to the Presidio on Saturday morning so I could introduce him to the beach:
Buster’s not at all convinced he likes sand. And he would like to fire his wardrobe mistress for forcing upon him the indignity of being the only dog on the beach wearing a sweater.
This is what a chihuahua looks like after an exhausting 20 minutes outdoors.
I predict I’ll be on my own honeymoon eventually. During which Buster will have to share his petite doggy bed with a large, slobbering 50-pound boxer because my friends are returning the favor. Who needs a Magic Eight Ball when you have the tenacity of a chihuahua who smells cake?
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November 18th, 2008 at 9:06 pm
Awww, I want to come play with you and Buster when I get back! But only if you SAVED ME CAKE, dammit!
November 18th, 2008 at 9:14 pm
Life seems good
November 18th, 2008 at 10:40 pm
That last picture needs a caption and an entry on http://ihasahotdog.com/
And I can’t wait to see you make that roast beef sandwich.
November 19th, 2008 at 8:26 am
Oh, good. I was going to request photos of this dog.
I agree with san.
November 19th, 2008 at 1:16 pm
I’m reassured by your suspicion of eventually being so far polarized from alone.
Is the grass always going to be greener in that other yard? As happy as I am with Domestic Partner, I can’t stop the oozing thoughts of everything else I could be doing or getting involved in, if I were still single.
But he’s worth it, as was waiting for him.
And on some days, all you need out of life is the sweetness of watching a canine cutie sleep in utter peace and contentment.
November 19th, 2008 at 1:24 pm
And this is why I signed up for online dating. Again.
It isn’t that I would mind being alone. I’m like you, that wouldn’t be a huge deal for me. It is the fact that as I get older and all my friends get married and have babies, my social life becomes non-existent.
So really, I’m not looking for a soulmate. I’m looking for a drinking partner.
November 19th, 2008 at 1:59 pm
Kristabella: A drinking partner, indeed. And a brunch partner. Good brunches tend to include drinking, bringing us full circle.
November 19th, 2008 at 6:04 pm
I think EIMEoLWSaBDTMMWWIWW is going around lately. Maybe we should form a support group. The most unpronounceable support group ever. We can meet for brunch!
November 20th, 2008 at 9:18 am
you are way too awesome to actually end up alone (kristabella too)…so for now, enjoy the time you have to be the only one using the remote, being able to pee in peace, and not having to hide the candy so your kids won’t eat it
November 20th, 2008 at 5:52 pm
And I thought I was the only one who suffered from “Everyone Is Married, Engaged, or Living With Someone and Boy, Does That Make Me Wonder Where I Went Wrong”
They need to make a vaccine for it, stat!
November 20th, 2008 at 5:53 pm
And I thought I was the only one who suffered from “Everyone Is Married, Engaged, or Living With Someone and Boy, Does That Make Me Wonder Where I Went Wrong”
They need to make a vaccine for it, stat!
November 21st, 2008 at 5:45 pm
I’m determined to never become the sort of person who doesn’t spend time with her friends, single or otherwise, because she’s dating/engaged/married/eating an entire pie by herself. I wish you lived closer so we could do weekly brunch. And weekly casserole making.
(Iggy is seriously dead for two days after we take him to the beach. He LOVES the beach. The actual ocean? He has barely noticed it, and when he does, his reaction is a very definitive “meh.”)
November 23rd, 2008 at 7:38 pm
Ah, the luxurious life. Dogs dont know how good they have it. In the old days, they just left them behind in the woods to fend for themselves.
December 9th, 2008 at 3:32 pm
Oh hello there, grass. You look mighty green!
Here, will you please take my husband for a week or so? He’ll totally wear a sweater on the beach. And he’s pretty good about not sniffing crotches.
I need a moment of peace.
He’s attractive, funny, a designer and a musician. But he can really drive me nuts. I would be up for a husband swap with you. You take him for a week, flip/flop, etc. Just remember to let him out to pee every 2 hours.