A strange week

Pat Fule
Fule for Thought

 

I’m starting to wonder if our 15 year old dog is starting to show signs of dementia. I don’t even know if dogs get this condition, but he’s got me wondering. Here’s a typical night. He scratches at the door to go out, then after a set amount of time, scratches to get back in. I haven’t figured out if his bladder’s tiny, his prostate is huge, or if he’s forgotten he just went out!
So, I get up again, and let him outside. This sometimes happens a third time! I can’t get mad at him, because I think he truly has forgotten he just went out! He’s always so happy I let him back in. His brown and white feather duster tail always wags vigorously, as he hops back over the door jam. Sadly, his back legs often give out and he sprawls on the tile floor! Oh well, he’s been a great dog, and he’s in his “twilight years” … I don’t mind a little inconvenience.
What is funny is that he’s become devoted to Deb. He goes to her office regularly, and even has started to try and “herd” her to bed. When he sees her get up, he walks with her, then ahead to our bedroom door, and waits, looking back at her. Then, he’ll walk back to her and try to get her to go with him to bed! He wants to set the bedtime hour for us now!
My much-anticipated return to SloPitch has come to a limping end. In my last game, I managed to roll my left ankle. I was sprinting (okay, a fast lumber!) to first, when my left ankle gave as it hit the base!
Sadly, I didn’t even beat out the throw, and was left to limp back to our dugout. Then, in our very next play in the field, our shortstop drilled a throw to me at first. The kid has a rifle for an arm, but this time his “bullet” skipped ever so gracefully off the ground, past my mitt, and into my shin. I’m black and blue from shin to the bottom of my foot … even my arch is bruised. Did I tell you that I’m too old to be doing this? That guy who yelled I was 74 the week before, wasn’t too far off! Then to cap off that bit of bad luck, I stepped in a gopher hole at our school the very next day, rolling the same ankle! I’m now an official sponsor for Advil, Tylenol, and any other pain reliever!
Saturday came along, and the Fules were invited to a bonfire. Those of you who know us, know that we try to be on time, but we don’t often succeed! Debbie had baked all afternoon, planning to take her famous chocolate chip cookies. We were once again running behind, so we really hurried. When we arrived, the first thing Deb said was, “where are all the cars?”
I as usual, had no answer, so we walked to the back yard. The yard was dark, no one was there, and the sprinkler was running. It was dead quiet. We went to the front door, thinking maybe they were all inside to start. The house was dark, and still dead quiet.
Just before I rang the bell, I checked the text message invite. We weren’t an hour late, we were a week early! Then Deb began to yell quietly (like the IKEA commercial), “start the car, start the car!”
Deb, Breanne, and I ran like ninjas across the street. I actually had to do a kind of hobble slash shuffle, and we leaped into the SUV! I wonder what the neighbours thought? It probably looked like a botched “home invasion”! The whole time running, Breanne was quietly mocking us saying, “you guys are such losers, and I’m one too, for joining you tonight!”
(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)