Dear Kid,
About a zillion years ago, I found a big piece of fabric with a blue background and a football team logo all over it. I sewed up the sides, stuffed it, and turned it into an enormous pillow for your room.
Since it was not the logo of a team that offended your sensibilities, and since it was big, and most importantly it was football (although hockey would have been better, Mom), you were quite happy to have it.
It lived as part of the background of your room for a long time.
But while the logo didn’t offend your sensibilities (hockey really would have been better, Mom) neither were you at all interested in that particular football organization, and the pillow drifted. It drifted so far that eventually it fell off your bed and took up permanent residence on the floor.
There it lay for several years, until I finally decided that someone with four legs would probably enjoy it more than the floor.
So I brought it downstairs, covered it with towels (just in case the team offended the Puppy’s sensibilities), and presented his Furriness with an alternative napping spot.
The Puppy LOVES his big pillow. It may be his favorite place to nap. If not his fave, then certainly in the top three. Apparently, he just doesn’t care all that much about football logos (I’m sure he agrees that hockey really, really would have been better).
Somewhere along the way, one of the seams gave out. The Puppy (of course) saw this as an excellent opportunity to liberate some of the stuffing. I shoved the stuffing back in the pillow, turned the pillow so that the hole was against the wall (harder to remember to pull the stuffing out when you can’t see it), and promised myself that – at my earliest opportunity – I would repair the rip.
Fast forward approximately 17 months. Yesterday was “my earliest opportunity.” I know, because I actually fixed the pillow yesterday.
Not only was the seam ripped, but part of the fabric was ripped too. There was no way to perform elegant plastic surgery. This was meatball surgery (extra points if you get the reference) at best.
So I sat on the floor with the big blue pillow and began to pin and stitch. The Puppy was not amused at having his Favorite Place taken away and stalked off, making it a point to ignore me. I made it a point not to notice him ignoring me.
About halfway through the repair job, I went to the kitchen to refill my BOC (beverage of choice—Diet Coke). When I came back, who do you think had figured out how to climb onto the pillow, curl up, and pretend to be asleep?
Dad wanted to “cause an earthquake” and dislodge the baby from the pillow. I vetoed the idea.
Instead, I lovingly scooped him off the pillow and into my lap, thoroughly expecting to be given the evil eye and abandoned.
Just when you think you know how they’re going to behave…
The baby blinked up at me sleepily, snuggled down, and remained on my lap. I thought maybe he wanted to be near his pillow while it was in “the hospital.”
Have you ever tried to thread a needle when a 20 pound dog is sleeping with his oversized head in the crook of your arm? Not easy, my friend, not easy.
I pulled the pillow over, somehow threaded the needle, and resumed working. Get the visual: Puppy in my lap, mostly curled up with his head in the crook of my left arm; pillow that is 5 times bigger than he is pulled up so that it is almost covering him like a blanket; me trying to sew.
And then – just as I was considering asking him to nap elsewhere – he began to snore. Tiny, baby, I’m-so-happy-with-the-world snores.
By the time I finished the pillow, my arm was beginning to cramp from holding his head and my right leg had fallen asleep.
It’s been a long time since I was that happy to be that uncomfortable.
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