Published Tuesday, February 19, 2008 5:57 PM
Updated Tuesday, February 19, 2008 5:58 PM

 

Watts Line 02/20/08

Manchild, wiener dog, at ‘home’


A couple of months ago, Manchild #2 came home to request that I “give him one of my dogs.” At the time, I was so dumfounded by the request, that I said “yes” without thinking very much about. (It’s part of that trying to do what you can do to help out the kids.)

Later, after I did give it a good think, I decided I would’ve said “yes” anyway.

The dog in question, Cassie, had always had more of a thing for our youngest guy-child than for any of the rest of us anyway, and had missed him terribly when he moved out this past fall to make his own way in the world. (Of course, his way was somewhat impeded by the writers strike, his livelihood being derived by the production of Lifetime’s “Army Wives” drama filmed here in the greater Charleston area and other assorted productions that make their way through the area.) Cassie had missed him, going back to his room and wandering around in there from time to time, racing to the door when someone came by, only to be disappointed that it wasn’t her favorite person.

But that’s beside the point. He and his girlfriend came home recently for a visit and to pick up mail that was still coming for him to our address.

“I have to ask a favor,” he said. We were prepared for just about anything, as always.

“Can you watch Cassie for us while we go out to dinner?”

“You want us to babysit?” the Hubster asked.

“No, dog-sit,” our offspring responded.

Right. We got that.

Cassie sat next to him, staring up at him as if he was the most perfect human on earth. (She’s not lived with him as long as we did, not that living with him wasn’t a constant source of entertainment,. ’cause it always was.) Anyway, there she was, squinting at him in a way that gave her a lovesick teenager expression. Very sincere, very endearing. Very I love you, I love you.

“We’re going to dinner and will be back in a few hours.”

“No problem,” we both said. We were happy to have Miss Cassie home for a visit.

While we chatted away, Sally and Charlotte – our two remaining wieners – were making over Cassie, trying to get her to play. Cassie wasn’t all that interested. Instead, she had a rather regal, above the fray look about her. I could tell she was used to being the center of someone’s universe, a princess, unlike when she lived here getting equal time with the other “girls.”

Eventually they left to go out to dinner, leaving us to feed the dogs, and play hostess to our quasi-prodigal wiener. We gave her and the other two a treat, watched them run in the backyard for a while then sat on the couch and hugged up on our doggie cuddlies. We were the babysitters. It was nice to have her home. We had missed her.

“You think they’ll come back for her,” the Hubster asked.

“Of course they will,” I said confidently. “Won’t they?”

And they did. A few hours passed and they were back. Cassie was ecstatic and jumped around, happy to see her humans, and ready to go “home.”

“Home” not being where she was at the moment.

“Home” now being wherever our Manchild is.

“Home” being where her heart was.

I’m not sure, but I think we were a little insulted that she didn’t cling to us and beg on little wiener knees to stay “home” with us.

A little surprised, but satisfied, that her “home” is no longer with us.

Contact Judy Watts at 873-9424 ext. 220 or jwatts@journalscene.com