Thursday, November 4, 2010
Gone to the Dentist -- and the Dogs
“Everyone my age is being diagnosed with a hernia,” said a 92-year-old friend of mine.
I was ready.
“Everyone my age is being told they need crowns on their teeth,” I replied.
I spent two hours at the dentist this morning, getting one tooth roughed up and ready for a crown. Fine. Worse things have been done to me. Besides, this dentist’s chair delivers a light back massage during treatment, so if you can forget that two people have dozens of instruments in your mouth, you can feel your upper back and shoulders relax.
More good news: Halloween photos of my Earl, favorite dog – he works at the insurance agency on the corner by my apartment – are now available, showing Earl in both his costumes. In one, he is sporting a skeleton outfit. In the other, Earl wears a Hawaiian shirt with a small lei around his neck. These costumes suited him well, and besides, he did not want to wear the hat with a big spider sewn on it. He made that clear the day he modeled it for me.
In a Facebook post about Earl some weeks ago, I misstated his lineage. (He has forgiven me.) Earl is a perfect blend of German short hair and Plott hound, which is also known as the “ninja warrior of dogdom.” No, really.
That said, I’m not sure Earl is up for the secretive nature of the ninja. He spends a lot of time smiling and looking out the top half of the door to the insurance agency. He greets people and other dogs as well. When he sees me, Earl wiggles and tries to lick my glasses and extends his paw.
Okay, I have bought his love – with Milkbones. But he seems to enjoy seeing me even when I don’t have treats in my pocket. One day, as I stood waiting across the street for a bus, Earl stretched way up, craning his neck to keep me in sight until I waved and got on the bus. That’s a real friend.
After the Novocain wore off from the dentist, I treated myself to a latte at Starbucks (the coffee shop is located inside my grocery – no way to avoid it!) and a package of dark chocolate-covered graham crackers. “I want these,” I said to the barista. “After all, I’ve been to the dentist.” She agreed a reward was in order. Great graham crackers!
When I got home, I clarified a few points in one newspaper story I turned in yesterday and got organized to submit an invoice for an article that will run in Sunday’s Post-Dispatch. (Look for a travel story about shopping in the Upper and Lower Haight neighborhoods!) I ate my graham crackers. I poured myself a Hansen’s Tangerine/Lime diet soda and punctuated the citrus taste with a slice of lime fresh from a friend’s tree. (Thanks, Sue!)
Now I’m going to lie around in my outstanding shirt that honors Tim Lincecum. (Yes, Cardinal Nation, I have committed post-season treason -- and boy was it fun! What’s not to love about these lively misfits?) And I’m going to read as I wait for another outstanding sunset. Love the photo I took last night looking out my window at the Marin headlands and the open sea! (See below.) If I could paint it, I would.
Life is good.