CLEARWATER TRIBUNE HOME

AUGUST 5, 2010

From this Chair…

By Cloann McNall

   Everyone in the neighborhood and surrounding area knows by now I have a dog named “Mary Jane.” They most likely think her name is Mary Jane Good Girl Treat as I call it so often in the front yard in an attempt to get her to head back inside the garage.

   My daughter Lynette Codr in Meridian said when their two-and-a-half-year-old granddaughter Ivy was asked recently at her new day “What’s your name?” Ivy said “Ivy you’re so pretty.” Lynette said when they dress her in the morning for day care they say “Ivy, you’re so pretty.”

   The day care attendant thought it was neat to hear Ivy thought that was her name and had no clue yet as to what it meant.

   I don’t see Ivy often but she is a pretty little girl and always dressed like a doll. We hope to have her in the Kiddie Parade here in September.

   Mary Jane is improving on her trips to the groomer Hollie Eller. Once we get in the Jeep and head out Mary Jane seems to sense where we’re going. She will hide from me on the floor or in the back of the Jeep.

   But once I fetch her out onto the ground she’ll put her tail between her legs and go slinking into the vet’s office. Inside she heads straight for the scales and hops on it. She’s learned the drill.

   Then we either hear “Good job, Mary Jane,” (rarely happens) meaning a weight loss or a moan followed by “What happened to you, Mary Jane?” I know it’s too many good girl treats but I tell them “She’s just a big boned dog.  You should see the pictures of her father. He’s huge!” Not that they believe me. They feel sorry for me not knowing she’s a Pug, and not a Pig. 

   Last month is the first time she’s lost weight in the three years I’ve owned her. They say she should weigh 17-18 pounds. Two pounds down and two to go.

   I find myself wondering if I do not have enough to care for without counting a dog’s calories and blindly seeking outside for a jet-black dog in the nighttime darkness.

   When I go to the doctor and get weighed I expect to hear “Good girl, Cloann” or “Oh my, what happened to you this month?” Then when they start sliding that weight back and forth across the scale bar (we’ve all been there) and making sounds such as “ahem” I know it’s been too many good girl treats and parties for me.

   Oh well, Mary Jane and I can always start over in the morning. A fresh new day…a clean slate…a new beginning every 24 hours, what a relief.