Turning over a new om
I took Loca as planned to have lunch with mom and picked up burgers at Lee’s on the way. My goal: to go spend time with her and not judge and to let Loca be my healing lab partner.
I found her with another black eye. She had fallen again and now had another black eye on the other side and a twisted ankle.
She said she wouldn’t use the walker because she was going to get better, so she didn’t need it.
Om Om Om – my thought bubble chanted.
We sat on the sofa and Loca came close to beg for food and mom said, “Loca! When did you become such a beggar?”
And I said when people started feeding her human food that makes her turn up her nose to dog food. She’s not a dumb dog.
I got up to look for a napkin in the kitchen, mom called out to me in a sing songy voice, “I think I’m in love.”
“With whom pray tell?” I asked.
She giggled and said, “Obama.”
When I sat back down on the sofa, I said, “Stand in line.”
Loca was sitting straight as an arrow right by me waiting for an ort. I said, “Loca looks like Obama.”
Mom fell backwards on the sofa belly laughing.
“But she does,” I said, “she’s beautiful and sleek and black and looks like she could be Obama dog.”
If you om enough times do you know that it spells mom?
omomomomomomomomomom
July 8th, 2009 at 10:01 am
What a nice moment!
July 8th, 2009 at 11:45 am
Thanks Alice – baby steps.