Friday’s Smile

Okay, so the proposed Friday Funny feature turned out to be more than I could handle.  Ack!

What can I say? I’m a wimp.

Here’s the thing: I may find funny things about which to write nearly every day, and I can find them just about anywhere, but what I think is funny may not be what you think is funny. Humor is quirky that way. Last week’s happy idea of The Friday Funny morphed, in my mind, into a writer-blocking, ear-chirping Godzilla chanting, the Friday Funny must be rib-tickling, knee-slapping, guffaw-inducing, make-’em-laugh-’til-they-snort hilarious, or you’re done. My anxiety whispered that whatever I wrote had to be stand-up-comedian funny. Johnny Carson funny.  Mrs. Maizel funny.  Or I’d fail.

No pressure, eh?  So…

Exit The Friday Funny; Enter Friday’s Smile.  😀

What can I say?  I caved.

Here’s where we stand: I’m thinking that, yes, Fridays will be my days to blog about funny things now and then, but more often Fridays will be about things that simply make me smile. Smile-induing things tend to be universal (unlike individualistic humor).  And smile-inducing topics tend to silence my confidence-draining Godzillas.

So here’s today’s Friday’s Smile:

Yes, that’s our Pinot girl. And, no, that is not her crate. (Ya, think?)

Her crate is two crates to the left (out of the photo) and three times larger than the crate she’s in.

For size comparison, in the photo below, that’s Pinot in front, closest to the camera, 75 pounds of fox-red yellow Lab. Fred is the white fluff ball with his head on the pillow behind her, all 25 pounds of him. Merlin is behind Fred.

Pinot hid in Fred’s crate. Go figure.

At first I didn’t notice.  Our kennel room also serves as our laundry room (it’s one big utility room), and the washer and dryer are located on the opposite wall across the room from the dog crates.  On this particular day, the whole canine crew (sans Pinot) was outside romping in the snow, and I had momentarily forgotten that Pinot had opted to stay indoors (she’s our old gal with least tolerance for the cold). I walked into the utility room to move our laundry from washer to dryer. And when I cleaned the dryer’s lint screen and reached toward the garbage can to throw the lint away (the garbage can is closer to the crates),  I caught movement out of the corner of my eye: a tail sweeping back and forth across the floor in front of Fred’s crate.

Apart from her wagging, Pinot didn’t move. It was as if the rest of her were frozen, hiding, staying vewy vewy still (like a wascally wabbit) so as not to be noticed. But her tail, that 100% Lab tail, couldn’t be contained.

[Sidenote: I’d show you the video if I could (I tried) — it makes me giggle — but apparently I have to upgrade to a premium WordPress account (higher monthly fee) to post videos on my blog — something I not ready to do. Yet. Maybe, in time. I’m still learning.]

In any case, anyone who has been around children or puppies knows that they assume if their heads are hidden, the rest of their bodies become invisible to the searching eye.  If they can’t see us, then we, of course, can’t possibly see them.

That was how it was with Pinot.  It was like she thought she was well hidden, that I couldn’t see her as long as she couldn’t see me. But her happy tail gave her away — that goofy, irresistable, wiggle-their-bottoms wag.

Nonetheless, Pinot, even with how happy she clearly was, didn’t want to reveal the rest of herself. No way. No how.

So our sweet old girl stayed “hidden” in Fred’s crate while I went about the business of moving laundry.

Why she hid there, in Fred’s tiny crate, I’ll never know (maybe it was Fred’s scent or a dropped morsel of Fred’s food, or kibble crumbs or something behind Fred’s crate). Who knows?

All I can say for sure is that Pinot found a happy hiding place for that afternoon, and like a hide-n-seek-playing toddler hiding her head beneath a pillow thinking she’s disappeared but giggling with the hope of being found, Pinot hid in a crate three-sizes too small providing only a giggling-tail-wag to hint that she was there.

She may not have wanted to be found (so I let her be), but she sure made doing laundry a whole lot more entertaining for me.

What can I say?  I’m easily amused.

And there you have it.  Your Friday’s smile.

TTFN,

Joan