Almost Valentine's Day

It is almost Valentine's Day and everywhere I look or listen people are encouraging me to celebrate it.

Q, a CBC afternoon show, has a 6 word love story challenge contest. I tried, just for the fun of it. My entry was:

"Sorry I left. Too late now."

A discussion group up here in the hills called "What If" challenged us to find a poem that encompassed the meaning of love.

I thought first of Margaret Atwood's:

You fit into me
like a hook into an eye.

A fish hook.
An open eye.

Then I thought of Penny Kemp's 5 word poem or playlet: "Stabilities":

He: Bedrock
She: Bedridden

Maybe hermits aren't very good at this love stuff ... too cynical ... too settled in a life that excludes love, I thought to myself.

Chatelaine and Canadian Living this month have sections on romantic bedrooms and recipes for aphrodisiacs and decadent chocolate desserts. I skim through them and then make a loaf of multigrain bread. While it is baking, I flour some cubes of stew beef and start a pot of stew. It occurs to me that I can use some of the broth when I make my next batch of wheat-free dog cookies. An aphrodisiac for puppies!

Havoc will arrive this evening and my life will change again. I will have to start thinking like a food thief when he is around or my dinner could well become his. I won't be able to leave the house as easily. He cries when his humans desert him for a couple of hours, and then looks for mischief to get into. I will have to baby-proof the house: close doors, clear any surface that is reachable, and hide the firewood. I will have to cover the new couch with uninviting things like boxes when I go to the dentist on Friday morning.

For the next couple of weeks I will be forced to wake up faster in the morning. Kenya wakes up as slowly as I do. As long as her bladder, bowel and stomach are reasonably comfortable she is happy to stretch out on the dog pillow beside my desk and sleep while I drink tea and type. Havoc will not be as easily satisfied especially in the morning before a run.

But Havoc is fun too. He is a tireless playmate. Kenya and I sometimes weary of this, but Remi delights in Havoc's unflagging energy.

No intruder will be a threat to me while Havoc is here. Mind you that also creates more noise in my usually silent household.

One dog tells me that some thing or person is around. A second dog often discusses the matter with the first. When Shea and Teddy are here, the three dogs discuss the matter in low rumbles:


Kenya: Did you hear that?

Shea: Yeah, I heard it too.

Teddy: What is it?

Shea: Probably nothing.

Kenya: What do you think? Should we tell her?

Shea: No, I don't think it's anything to worry about.

Teddy: Shea, what's happening?

Shea: Nothing.

Kenya: You sure?

Shea: Pretty sure. Now go back to sleep.

Kenya and Teddy: Okay. If you say so, Shea.

When Havoc is here, the tones are shriller, the excitement higher, and I have to be the one who says, "It's okay. Go back to sleep."

They do take care of me, these dogs.

I will wake up on Valentine's Day with a Doberman puppy in my bed and Kenya asleep on her cushion at the foot of my bed. We will invite Remi over in the afternoon and the three of us will celebrate Valentine's Day with new cookies made with beef stew broth. Who needs aphrodisiacs, roses and chocolate truffles anyway?