HI. LIKE MY VEIL?Well, for those who may not know, I'm currently mourning the loss of the little blinking red light on my blackberry that blinks no more, so I shall focus my current energies on discussing the fat beast that still puts a smile on my face.
MOURNING + BEAST = NOT SO TERRIBLE MOURNING.
Especially when said beast does things like sleep in these positions, where the paw, face and tail are all in the same vulnerable attacking area. He should know better.
But Oscar is especially helpful in the mourning process when he joins and enjoys as I sit at the piano and howl along to my rendition of Poker Face/Moonlight Sonata.
And occasionally he feels musical inspiration and marches his unnaturally large animal paws across the white keys as I play the black ones. His tunes are unlike any I could match and were he human, his would be the genious equivilant of piano masters such as Chopin and Satie.... mmm Gnossienne #1. Don't get me started. Yes, Oscar would be just like them. Or maybe just like his mommy who dabbles in the beauty of musical psychosis. That would be fine too.
And when the time comes for #122 of his 143 daily naps... and I am looking for a mind numbing escape to Bikini Bottom where there is never a plot involving love, heart ache, career or anything relevant to the adult life that I pretend not to have ... we sit together on the couch and satisfy one another's needs for company.
As my family went around the Thanksgiving table and individually announced their thanks for friends, family and all things human, I said I was thankful for Oscar. What I didn't announce was the reason why: because every little strand of pitbull fur on his solid bodily existence is the cutest thing ever and he has never, ever once made me feel anything other than loved.
awwwww, crap. I've gone and gotten all sappy.
So I'll sign off with a picture of Oscar looking like a dead fish.
BETTER.
