THE RECORD

November 13, 1996

BACK TO THE EGG

Suzanne Trevis

We were sitting eating dinner the other night when my soft hearted six year old remembered some schoolwork she had left in the car. Well of course we had to jump up and go get it RIGHT NOW. Only upon opening the back door she found a large dog sleeping across the threshold.

She came running back to the table crying, "Mommy, Mommy there's a big dog on our steps." I told her to finish her dinner and get her things later. I should have known that it was a waste of time.

Her sister decides to go with her and check on the "dog." A minute later they return with Jenny still looking very worried. "Yup, there's a dog out there all right," says her sister sitting down. Then blew the "helpful" image by tacking on, "What's the matter Jenny, scared of an old dog?"

Jenny straight away sits up and says "No" quite emphatically then turns to me and whines, 'Mom, will you come out to the car with me?"

"Stay there," I said, getting up from the table. I walked across and opened the back door. The old dog sleeping across the doorway lives over the road. He usually spends 95% of his time sleeping in the road in front of his house. I supposed that this night he was getting out of the rain, and I felt just a wee bit guilty giving him a shove and telling him to go home.

Meanwhile, our vicious watch-cat was sitting not two feet away hissing at the dog, who paid no attention what-so-ever.

Very reluctantly he lumbered to his feet and padded off down the stairs and into the gloom at the end of the driveway. I went back to the dinner table, thinking the problem solved.

"Once you're finished your dinner you can go out and get your things," I told my daughter. She brightened up. "Is the dog gone?" "Yes," I said, "I sent him home." "Why was he sleeping on our doorstep?" "Because he wanted somewhere to sleep that was out of the rain," I said. "You know, Jen, you don't have to be scared of that dog, you've seen him outside before. He's getting old, he doesn't see too good and he's probably going deaf."

It was definitely the wrong thing to say. A look of horror crossed her face. "What do you mean he's deaf?" she cried. She wrapped her arms around her head and cried onto the table.

I looked at my husband, who looked suspiciously like he was trying to choke down a laugh with his dinner.

When I finally got her to settle down, we had a long talk about what happens when animals, and people, get old. I explained why dogs can't have tubes in their ears to help them hear better (as she does) and finally we went out and got the stuff out of the car.