Huckleberry and Me

Long ago. I found a dog. A cute, little buff-colored Cocker Spaniel. Roaming around my neighborhood. Looking lost. Scared. And hungry. I picked him up. Oh so gently. And placed a bowl of water down, and some food. For him to drink from, and to nibble at. Then I made a sign, determined to find its owner, yet hoping no one would respond. Just so I could keep that sweet little pup. With me. Forever and ever.

Happily, for the Spaniel, someone called. Said they’d be right over. To pick up their beloved pup. And to thank me for taking care of him.

Well, right then and there, I decided I wanted a Cocker Spaniel of my own. To name. To feed. To care for. So I searched the papers. For dogs. And found someone selling buff-colored pups. Only six or so weeks old. So I called. To say I wanted one. But, they honestly told me that the dogs did not have papers proving they were a breed. And because of that, they were selling them for cheaper than cheap. Which I didn’t mind. About the papers. All I knew was that I wanted one. One of those Spaniels. One of those pups.

When the time was right, I picked one up, and brought it home to care for. And to love. And named him Huckleberry. Like Tom Sawyer’s friend.


Then one day, I moved. Moved far away. To an apartment where dogs weren’t allowed. So, I left him behind. Hoping he’d be okay. And he was. Until the day he was hit by a car. And taken to the vet. Who told me Huckleberry had been injured. That it was serious. And the best option was to put him down. To sleep. To euthanize him.

I went to see him. To say goodbye. I hugged him. Kissed him. Petted him, gently. And then  waited. Until I had to walk away. Sadly. With tears in my eyes.

I returned home. To my boyfriend. And fell into his arms. Crying like an unsoothable baby. Until I was all cried out. Then I began to talk. About Huckleberry. How I felt I had failed him. And swore I would never, ever get a dog again. Not until I was fully dedicated to caring for him.

In the end, I spoke about how special Huckleberry was. How sweet. And gentle. And how forever his name will remind me of a buff-colored Spaniel, from long ago.

whoa! or woo!, which one are you?

liz's butt in jeansOkay, so you’re walking down the street, or along some path in the park, or maybe you’re at the mall, or the grocery story, or it could even be that you are working out at the gym, entering the movie theater, maybe you’re at work, or at your child’s day care and it’s in the afternoon and your walking back to your car, kid slung on your hip, or you’ve just walked outside your place of residence to grab the mail, or maybe you’ve knelt down to pick up the cell phone you just dropped, or….. well, let’s just say you are anywhere and a guy looks at you, a girl, a woman more like it, and he says WHOA!… as you walk by. Or, rather, instead, he says WOO! 

For some odd reason these expressions sparked some interest during a sit down dinner, or maybe it was just a casual conversation, with the ratio of men higher to the total women in attendance, when a light-hearted debate ensued trying to decipher the meaning of both seemingly quick assessments. No one really was able to define each compliment (it is? isn’t it?) but rather gave their – lot’s of laughter issued here – opinion. Most assumed whoa! was when a guy was likely responding to the girl, or woman, wearing something tight, like a skirt, any length above the knee, but that is snug on her round rear-end, and cinched in, making the waist small, the butt rounder. The hot girl. Whereas if a guy says woo! – the cute, or pretty girl – she’s still looking good but in a more comfortable way. Someone who’d be wearing jeans, perfectly fitted, not too tight, not too loose, with a basic t-shirt, or a pretty blouse and sandals or some other carefree type of shoe, with hair flowing loose, free from the binds of bands or pins.

Well, now, not that these expressions are even relevant, or as some might say, maybe they are just stupid sexist hoot-and-hollers that men make, but our conversation about them did produce a fun and lively conversation, and tons of laughter. So worth it!