New Baby

I have a new baby and her name is Abi. She’s gorgeous and chunky and covered in wrinkles. And she’s keeping me really busy.

Fat Abi is an eleven week old English bulldog with a big block head and loose folds of skin everywhere and a fierce desire to chew. And chew. And chew. Especially metal. Anything metal. Or hard and round. Or flat and rubbery. Or thin and papery. Or covered in skin. Human skin.

She’s very sweet and happy. As long as you don’t scold her for biting down hard. Or peeing where she shouldn’t. And then she looks at you from the corner of her eye and as my older son says, ‘That’s her devil look.’ And it’s true. Sweet fat Abi with her rolie polie self doesn’t like to be corrected. And if you do scold her, or hold her muzzle when she’s biting too hard, she gives you that side glance that says, ‘I don’t have to listen to you.’ It’s her wicked face and the problem is–excuse me, I have to pull her off my computer cords, I shall be right back–her wicked face, with her wicked side look, in that white wrinkly face with her brown patch over her one eye–is so cute, and so funny (half pig, half bat-like) that she looks–excuse me, let me pull her off my modem cord–


Exhale. Big breath. Hold. Release.

And she’s a lot of work.

The boys love her. To bits. Except the younger son panics when she bites really hard. And yet he lies down on the carpet, arms at his sides, face up, staring at the ceiling. He lies there as an offering. And I tell him, ‘Ty, that’s only encouraging her to bite your (unprotected) face,’ but he says, ‘I want her to see me.’

And I think, oh, honey, she does.

She sees you the way she sees kibbles and bits. Yum, yum, yum.

And so–as I pull Abi off my printer cord–she keeps me busy and gives me yet one more reason to be distracted from my writing, at a time I shouldn’t be distracted as I’ve a book due in just weeks and I’m well, still on chapter one. And just as Warner offers me a new two book contract–those details soon, I promise, but I want to see the ink dry on the contract before I share. Oops. Excuse me while I chase fat Abi down the hall. She has my wallet, and some cash, in her mouth.

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