Creative Writing: Groundhog Day
Homer
Homer is a fourteen-year-old mutt that we got at the Animal Rescue League twelve years ago. He is not the brightest bulb on the tree, but he is personality plus and part of the family. He’s also a pain in the butt, especially over the last couple of years. . . .
He has a geriatric tendency to empty his bowels in the living room. He likes to wander off whenever he can—well, this is not a new habit, actually. He likes to lunch from our neighbour’s garbage—also nothing new. And lately he’s forgetful, to the point where he whines at the back door to go out, spends two minutes outside, whines at the front door to come in, walks to the back door, whines at the. . . . Well, if you ever saw the movie Groundhog Day, you know what I mean.
Last …show more content…
“Oh good,” I guess she said at the time. I have this mental picture of hands rubbing together, like a praying mantis on the Discovery channel.
Homer stayed over the weekend, with daily updates from our vet (calls likely billed back to my account, I’ll bet).
Sunday: “No better.”
Monday: “A very sick little dog.”
Tuesday: “He’s worse, I’m afraid. We’re going to need to operate.”
“Operate?” To my shame, alarm bells shaped like dollar signs started going off in my head. “What do you think’s wrong with him?”
“We have no idea. Could be a tumour. We may find when we open him up that there’s something we can’t fix, and if that’s the case, we’ll probably be calling to recommend we don’t wake him up. Or possibly we’ll need to transport him to the hospital in Charlottetown. He’s a very sick puppy.”
Not really. He’s actually a fourteen-year-old dog with Alzheimer’s disease. But what do you do? “Do whatever you need to do,” I told her. And then, tentatively, “Any sense as to what the cost of this will be?”
“Oh, at least two thousand.” The way she said it, you could tell she thought it was poor taste even to ask.
So they operated. A successful operation, and it looked as if poor Homer was out of
Homer is a fourteen-year-old mutt that we got at the Animal Rescue League twelve years ago. He is not the brightest bulb on the tree, but he is personality plus and part of the family. He’s also a pain in the butt, especially over the last couple of years. . . .
He has a geriatric tendency to empty his bowels in the living room. He likes to wander off whenever he can—well, this is not a new habit, actually. He likes to lunch from our neighbour’s garbage—also nothing new. And lately he’s forgetful, to the point where he whines at the back door to go out, spends two minutes outside, whines at the front door to come in, walks to the back door, whines at the. . . . Well, if you ever saw the movie Groundhog Day, you know what I mean.
Last …show more content…
“Oh good,” I guess she said at the time. I have this mental picture of hands rubbing together, like a praying mantis on the Discovery channel.
Homer stayed over the weekend, with daily updates from our vet (calls likely billed back to my account, I’ll bet).
Sunday: “No better.”
Monday: “A very sick little dog.”
Tuesday: “He’s worse, I’m afraid. We’re going to need to operate.”
“Operate?” To my shame, alarm bells shaped like dollar signs started going off in my head. “What do you think’s wrong with him?”
“We have no idea. Could be a tumour. We may find when we open him up that there’s something we can’t fix, and if that’s the case, we’ll probably be calling to recommend we don’t wake him up. Or possibly we’ll need to transport him to the hospital in Charlottetown. He’s a very sick puppy.”
Not really. He’s actually a fourteen-year-old dog with Alzheimer’s disease. But what do you do? “Do whatever you need to do,” I told her. And then, tentatively, “Any sense as to what the cost of this will be?”
“Oh, at least two thousand.” The way she said it, you could tell she thought it was poor taste even to ask.
So they operated. A successful operation, and it looked as if poor Homer was out of