Day 159
It’s essential that today go
well. We’re introducing Spot to
the new puppy. The rescue folks
will watch the exchange and decide if the adoption is a go.
I’m a tad nervous but try and
put it into perspective. It’s two
dogs we’re talking about not a Middle East peace summit. (I don’t think I’ll share this with the
rescue folks. They like us. Clearly we’ve been on our best behavior
and I want them to continue to wear their pretty rose-colored glasses.)
We bring something with us to
the meeting. Think of it as a push present, a
time-honored tradition of showering a new mother with a gift after the labor of
“pushing” during childbirth.
When I was pregnant the first
time, my doctor gave November 15 as our due date. Smack in the middle of the month, we felt confident we’d
have a Thanksgiving baby. Instead
we had a Halloween one.
My water broke four weeks early
at my ten-year college reunion. By
the time my two friends and I drove the 40 miles from Granville to Columbus, Chaz
had paced a path in the front porch. The four (or five?) of us headed to the hospital and the fun
began. For the next nine hours the
fun continued. I. entered the
world at 7:30 the next morning.
My husband, the best gift giver
ever, asked the nurse to repeat the date.
Twice.
“Sh#t, sh#t, sh#t,” he muttered in a wonderful impression
of a homeless lunatic.
At this point, I was more than a little
annoyed. I'd had kind of a night. What in heavens name had
he got to complain about? Last time I checked, I did the hard part. "Will you please stop?"
That’s when he pulled from his
pocket a small velvet covered box.
Inside was my push present, a custom-designed ring set with diamonds and
blue topaz, the November birthstone.
“I’ll get it changed,” he said.
“Not a chance,” I laughed. Years later, I love the ring even more because of the wrong stones.
Our gift for the puppy’s mom
isn’t anything as elaborate as a ring but instead a rawhide bone. Puppy Pushing? It counts. Maybe it counts more since Bella birthed eight kids while I can brag of birthing only one at a time.
Come on now, eight puppies? Throw that girl a bone.
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