I think you know my brother Hagar. This coming Tuesday he is going to go the hospital for surgery. He has been walking strangely recently and can’t run worth a lick. I’m not altogether sure what that means except Mary’s jaw gets really tight when she talks about it. The jaw tightening only happens when she’s upset. The other reason I can tell if she’s worried is because her voice modulates when something is really bothering her. Her voice flies up and down when she talks to Hubs about Hagar these days.
What has me wondering what’s up is that I heard her spell “walk,” after saying Hagar wouldn’t be able to go on one without a leash for six weeks. You know how much I don’t understand humans, I mean I love them, well some of them. I don’t get them. First of all, does Mary honestly believe Hagar and I can write blog posts and not know what W-A-L-K spells? We aren’t stupid.
Secondly, why would anyone walk a dog on a leash? It’s just plain cruel. Dogs run free in my mind. I do have to say though that when I go to the vets, I’m kind of glad there is a leash—all of those cars, strange people, and other dogs. It can be kind of overwhelming. So I wonder what is so frightening. I asked him he didn’t know. Why else would he need to walk on a leash for so long too?
Sure, I could ask Mary, but what if it is something awful? If anybody out there knows what is going on, please write me and let me know. Worrying is not a good look for me wouldn’t you agree?