Thursday, March 31, 2011
Had a bowl of ice cream last night and it made me think of my old friend. It was just over a month ago that I came home from Dublin and noticed that something was off with his eye. It was the beginning of the end. It was a tough couple of months.
Old Ben (actually Ben at all ages) loved his ice cream which I gave to him sparingly as a special treat. We generally avoided giving him people food with the exception of cheese and spaghetti (that dog loved spaghetti) but the odd time I would give him a little ice cream and when we were finishing a carton I'd throw it on the floor and he'd stick his head in there and push it around the kitchen as he cleaned it out. Good old days.
Last night I was up with the youngest who has a bit of the red ass going on (literally, not in the Lou Pinella sense of the word) and then once I had that taken care of and was back in bed shortly thereafter the boy came in having had a nightmare and so it was to his room and we got that squared away and fucking right I am father of the year. Every year. I'm the Nick Lidstrom of Dads.
So I'm back in bed and I'm drifting off and all of a sudden the cat comes back in and decides that its time to play and so my body becomes a trampoline and my feet become prey and while I resist the urge to fire it out the window the fact is we have a problem. I fire it out into the hall and close the door and its meowing and banging into the door and I'm wondering if the kids would question kitty "going to the farm".
Last week I was heading out the door with my oldest to go pick up our younger two. We were hauling a table out at the same time that I was moving on Kajiji.
Here's the thing about my oldest. She's a sweet sweet kid. Sharp? You bet. Really smart. Its not bragging if its true you know. She's really really bright. She is me as a kid, I was a smart little dude.
Also I was a flake. I was the type who could impress you with my knowledge, quoting Shakespeare, all the while not realizing that I wasn't wearing pants. Very little has changed to be honest.
My daughter is cut from the same cloth. She is me. Which is good news for her generally except for the unibrow thing.
And the flaky thing. She is forever forgetting things, walking around with her head in the clouds. It makes my wife mental but it can't be helped.
So this afternoon we were walking this table out the door, she was helping which was cute and appreciated and all of a sudden I see you know what coming down the stairs.
The cat, I said. The cat is coming. Put the table down and pick her up.
The cat. Pick up the cat.
Sweetie put the table down and pick up the cat before she walks out the door.
And then she did, walk out the door that is.
Its under a hedge next door and after about five minutes of cajoling and muttered curses it saunters out and my daughter picks her up and then, as we get back to the house, she lets her go, for no reason really.
Another fifteen minutes passed and we chased that goddamn cat from house to house halfway down our street, including at least once when I flushed it out and my oldest, god bless her, let it walk right by, before we finally got our hands on it.
Reminds me of those old comics, you know, when you had way too much cheese in your house, so much cheese that its getting stinky, so you bring in a few mice to eat the cheese and then next thing you know you have too many mice and so then you bring in a cat to take care of the mice and then next thing you know you have too many cats, like maybe one, and then you need to bring in the dog to clean the whole mess up.
That's what we're needing.
Impossible? Well I always thought so but a couple of weeks ago we were at a maple sugar bush and a little black pup was hanging out there and on the way back we passed a sign that said puppies for sale and I mentioned how I missed that old boy and Jenn said just wait a couple of years.
A light at the end of the tunnel.
Meanwhile, anyone want a kitten? For free. Actually I will give you money.
I kid. Sort of.
The Oilers continue to play out the string. Mercifully its almost over and we will have over five months to recover until we start it all over again. Its been a disaster as we all know, reminiscent of the spring of 2007. Its an AHL lineup through and through. They can't score and they can't defend and it can't end fast enough.
You know its been a bad run when coughing up a big lead to your biggest rival ranks as probably the best game you have played in a long time. Certainly the most entertaining.
I have decided that its the radio for me when I watch the late games on CBC from now on. I complain endlessly about Kevin Weekes, time to just stop listening to that smarmy, dull, foolish man. I've never heard such poor commentary in decades of watching hockey. A block of cheese would add to the quality of the broadcast - addition by subtraction you know.
Anything nice to say about our poor Oilers? Well I'm loathe to jump the gun and call Teemu top six material based on a handful of games but man is he a dynamic player or what? Big and physical and his motor always running and he makes things happen offensively as well. That rush the other night against the Kings was really something. He may have been a sixth round pick but he's going to cover that bet and then some. He's a player. He'll break camp with the big club next year and I wonder if his emergence impacts what they think of Jones. Still LW looks like Hall/Paajarvi/Jones/Teemu if they sign the chubby guy with the flowing locks.
And Vandevelde doesn't look out of place. Plus he can win draws. Despite a pedestrian rookie pro year in OKC I think he has put a big foot forward towards next season as well, most likely as that big fourth line centre this club has lacked in forever.
Other then that, I've got nothing.
Posted by Black Dog at 1:00 PM