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My brother-in-law Jim is a great guy. Visits to Minneapolis
used to mean latenight walks with him & Sam the dog, during which Jim
and I'd talk about this and that. This trip was different. Sam is 15 now
and had had a December 22 trip to the emergency vet to stitch up a big cyst
on his leg which had spontaneously (well, who knows, maybe he bit it) ruptured,
leaving blood, lymph, and other doggy bodily fluids on the floor. Springer
Spaniels are not smart. Loyal, affectionate to a fault, yes. But smart? No.
Sam sported a plastic neck cone to keep him from pulling out his stitches.
The whole five days of our visit he bumped that cone into everything, never
learning that it was somehow connected to his body. For whatever reason,
there were no long latenight walks. I didn't even think about it till now.
Our last night, Jim drives home from work, then takes his daughter Sarah
to her hockey league game an hour south to Mankato,
the town Mapquest forgot. Misled by bad web directions, they get there during
the 2nd period. One 5-4 loss later, leaving the
arena they're greeted by heavy snow and inch their way home where Big Sarah
and I wait for our ride to the train station. A
slow go, he skips dinner so we won't be late. Without a word of complaint,
Jim, who'd had such a long day, helps load our
copious luggage (my sister had been very generous with the gifts) and drives
us past at least one SUV spinout to
St. Paul in time for our 11:15 pm departure. Margaret takes charge and helps
us to our gate. (Thank you!)
I hadn't seen snow in two years. It was pleasingly sticky and Sarah and I
threw snowballs on
the platform while we waited for the "all aboard!" Boarding a train is the
best feeling. |
