I wouldn't say I'm aged to perfection, more like semi-perfection with plenty room for improvement. I'm still dealing with a sizable relearning curve.
An example you want? An example you'll get. See this guy here, Sir Blakey, aged to somewhere in the vicinity of six years come May, something I need to be reminded of, annually, because it's a made up b'day? Doesn't he look calm, the portrait of serenity, the mellowist of canines? Blakey in repose is indeed supremely chill.
And yet, almost daily, I need to relearn a simple scientific factoid: A dog in motion stays in motion. Take the other morning, when the eldest, living mere moments away, stopped by. Coffee cup in hand, I went to hug him. Hugging your boychick while holding a steaming cup of java? Maybe not the best move. As I went in for the hug, a certain furry attention junkie jumped up, knocking the mug out of my dainty hand and setting off a series of unfortunate events. The mug sailed across the room, shooting coffee everywhere. Cue the crash landing. The mug, my absolute favorite, the mug my dear friend Kelly gave me, the mug that defines me, broke on impact. I think I heard it scream. Or maybe that was me.
So now another one heads my way, courtesy of what may or may not be an international coffee mug smuggling ring. The transaction may lead to identity theft. Or perhaps my purchase will arrive by next week without incident or FBI intervention. It's worth the risk. I am that mug. That mug is me. Capiche? In the meantime, I've vowed not to hug any offspring while gripping a hot mug of caffeine. I feel strongly about this pledge. But if I forget, please remind me. I'm still relearning things.
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