We have a Calvin and Hobbes book in the bathroom. It is a fun read and is the ever great reminder that Ken and I did a good thing when we chose not to have children.
Calvin would be the kind of kid, I think, most anyone would wish for as a person, but would be a handful as a kid. His imagination is so great and his disappointment in reality just perfect.
I love how Calvin, playing by himself turns into Spiff the Spaceman and has to battle the big gory monsters, that somehow always turns into either his mom or his teacher.
I bring this up right now, because we have Moser with us, and I think Moser and Calvin are cut from the same cloth. And as it turns out, I am the monster adult who is ruining his life!
Now, usually when we dog sit Moser, it is all fun and games. We play, â€œmoose down the hall,â€ and â€œgimme thatâ€ We romp and go for long walks and if we are lucky we will run into another dog and they will play and play. But this time is different.
Last week, poor Moser was bitten by a small and horrible terrier dog over on Gambier Island when he and Marian were visiting friends. This was traumatic enough for a dog like Moser who just doesnâ€™t have a mean bone in his body, or a harmful thought in his head.
But to add to the trauma, the bite was worse that anyone thought and when Marian brought Moser home from the vet, there were stitches, drains, bandages, medicines, cones, and procedures to deal with as he â€œhealsâ€.
Then Marian left on a planned three week trip to Europe and handed us Moser with pages of instructions. No problem right!
Well, Moser has turned into Spiff the Spaceman.
I canâ€™t blame him. He is certain that every time we need to change his bandage, we are trying to kill him. That every time he needs to take his medicine, we are trying to poison him and that when he has to wear the cone and all these hideous bandages, we are doing it just to humiliate him and he wants no part of it.
Moser has become Spiff the Spaceman and his duty in life is to eradicate the humans in this house or at least drive them around the bend. And as long as he has to wear bandages, cones and eat cheese filled poison, or until he feels better; I truly believe he will never surrender and only wishes he had a ray gun!