All That Ails You: The Adventures of a Canine Caregiver by Asher Mark J

Author:Asher, Mark J. [Asher, Mark J.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2013-04-23T23:00:00+00:00

19

The good thing about being around someone who is new to dogs is that you can take advantage of them. I mean that, of course, in the best possible way. :)

Walter gave me more food over the next week—before Jane informed him that it wasn’t a good idea—than I could have ever imagined.

One morning after breakfast, he called me to follow him back to his room. Once he got situated on his recliner, he opened a few peanut butter condiments he had taken from the dining room for me.

“Boy, it doesn’t take much to make you happy, does it?” he said, watching me voraciously lick each one clean.

No, Walter, just something to lick, love, chase or chew, and I’m content.

When I finished, Walter put the empty condiment containers on a small table beside him, and picked up the newspaper to work on a crossword puzzle. I retreated to my new bed by the window and watched him.

I quickly picked up that Walter had a habit of talking to himself. Either that or perhaps he felt I could bark out an answer to his puzzle.

“We’re getting there,” he’d say every few minutes before announcing the part of the puzzle he was working on. “California City where the Pony Express made its last ride . . . ten letters and it ends with an ‘o’.”

After we completed our first crossword together, this became a routine of sorts, with Walter calling me back to his room after breakfast for a visit. He would always give me a treat, or something he grabbed from the dining room, and then I’d give him moral support, while he finished his daily puzzle.

Being given lots of treats and goodies was only part of my reward for helping Walter on the night of the incident. He began taking me outside to sit on the front patio, where we watched the world go by.

SunRidge was located on the corner of a well-traveled, four-lane road, and there was plenty to see. On the corner opposite of us—on the same side of the street—there was a car wash, which included an oil change station, as well as a mini-market. Kids from nearby schools always congregated there. On the corners across the street, there were a gas station and a mini-mall.

I always loved to look out the windows whenever I visited with residents, curious to see anything that was going on, but now I was breathing the fresh air, while taking in the sights, as well as the sounds, and the smells.

Walter’s observations were quite different than mine.

I picked up on the sound of young kids whizzing by on their skateboards, and spotted a long, white line trailing a plane in the sky; and was fascinated by a large dancing sandwich on the street corner, promoting lunch specials.

Walter saw a changing world.

“Look at these kids today with tattoos on their necks, their backs, their calves . . . they’re everywhere,” he bemoaned. “In the old days, sailors, bikers, and servicemen used to have them, but one, two tops.

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