Fathers Day and the Summer Solstice. . .

           A Bad Combo Adding Insult to Injury on Father's Day?                           

Happy golfers on Fathers Day 

until . . .

. . . Discovering the Summer Solstice falls on this Fathers Day AND US Open final round!

Father’s Day and the summer solstice, on the same damn day!? I wonder if there is a hidden message or meaning to this  . . . "coincidence."

Everyone knows that Father’s Day is the least important of the many made-up holidays. Don't believe me? Then how come all the FD greeting cards say, "Dear Dad . . . Who Cares, LMAO!” Also, you can count on one hand the number of times you see a kid waving and yelling “Hi dad” on tv, it’s always “Hi mom!” And that’s okay, moms deserve it. Besides, that’s the way it should be, dads are meant to toil in familial obscurity. We can’t compete with a mother’s love so all we can do is try to compete with brute sincerity - and the occasional game of hoops or playing catch. A dad’s love may not make for clever Hallmark cards but that doesn’t make it any less real (just a little less obvious.)

So, we get this one day a year to pretend like we are an equal partner in the hearts of our family and what happens? It’s accompanied by the worst day of the year, the summer solstice! Don’t believe me? Think about this:

3:25AM Sun June 21st - Beautiful right?

Enjoy it because . . .

                                                                                                                               . . . In just a few weeks this is the next stop, pal!

Unlike its winter alter ego which signals the beginning of hope, the summer solstice signals the opposite. Minnesota summer: endless, lazy days with blue skies and puffy, white, fair-weather clouds. Days of long, perfect drives down the middle of the fairway and short putts. (Forget that first part. Okay, also the second part.) Of short nights with cool breezes by the lake and the Milky Way shimmering above. Of girls in tank tops and men in speedos. (Better forget that last thing too.) Then, at its peak . . . the solstice comes along and robs us of this magic, laughing as it does so and replacing it with the long slide to the depths of winter. 

But that's not all. Get this: the US Open golf championship always ends on Father's Day. Kinda nice, for us dads, right? Ha! It's a close call every year but in a rare inexplicable alignment of earth, sun, the calendar and unknown nefarious forces, every so often - like this year - the summer solstice spreads it dark shadow precisely over this joyous day. Oh, the humanity!

Okay, now think about this: we know the solstice always occurs about this same time every year - and has for, like, a pretty long time. Father’s Day was started in the US in 1910 (by a woman!) then many years later someone (evil doers who hate dads and golf?) decided to park it right next to this lugubrious astronomical event. Seriously? Since nobody cares why not plop it down in August (like Taiwan) or March (like Lichtenstein), or any other months without holidays. Hmmm? 

As for the US Open, I know what you are thinking: why not move it. Well that's just silly talk - it would be easier to change the solstice!

So, this is a test! One day a year a dad gains a bit of stature as the other adult in the house – and it’s quickly snuffed out by the gloom that comes with the summer solstice. How will I react to this outrage? Will I snivel and whine about my fate? Will I complain about yet another snub to my male ego? Will I declare the victim-hood I have so justly earned? No, damn it, no! This is where I prove to my family that an American dad can accept the abuse the gods heap on me with the calm and dignity that has made me a legend at every sporting event of my kids. It's evidence that my cluelessness to most domestic dramas is just my way of staying neutral and, finally, proof that offering a clumsy hug is my way of kissing to make it better. It is a test I shall pass with a strong C+!

In any event I wish a Happy Father’s Day to all my fellow dads. We may be overweight and underappreciated but we love and are loved and that will always do. Besides, only six months to the winter solstice!

On a positive note . . .

My Role Model

                                           

Marvelous Marv, the only guy who could foxtrot to anything  (much to mom's chagrin.)

33 years gone and I still miss you very much, pop - you old smoothie!

The Spendid Splinter's favorite only dance tune.

All of Me    Willie Nelson

Note: Fear not, much of this is tongue in cheek - just not the part about the summer solstice. I do hate it so!

A Dog's Tail . . .

 

Dear Prudence

2013 - New puppy in the house

You might remember that we lost our puppy a few months ago. Most people who own a pet, and especially dog owners, can vouch for the pain of losing them. It truly sucks.Time has passed and the pain, while still lurking, has lessened enough that I thought I might offer a eulogy of sorts for our special girl and perhaps an ode to pets in general. It seems the least I can do. 

We have lost other dogs before Prudence and it is always painful. It’s just that we had her for much longer and had many more adventures with her so this doubly hurt.

Never owned a cat, never owned a gerbil, never owned fish; never owned anything but a dog. I assume there is some connection with those pets as well but I can only say that if that connection is anything like the one with a dog well then, I feel sorry for those owner’s loss too.

Prudie and her niece Lucy

Pru, like her little predecessor Penny Lane, was a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. As you can see from her picture, she confirms the world-wide opinion that they are among most beautiful of dog breeds.

Her nephew Odin

The poorly kept secret is that the only thing more beautiful than their appearance is their loving nature. Of course, all dogs tend to love their owners (even if we don't deserve it) but Cav’s are special. After all, they were bred to be lovers and lapdogs specifically for their British royalty masters. King Charles – duh! (Something else besides the Magna Carta to be grateful to the Brits for?)

Daddy's girl - It's always naptime 

Prudie’s breed, the Cavaliers, are noted not just for their beauty and wonderful personality, sadly they are also noted for their bad hearts. Yup, a curse of their breed (and breeding) is a faulty ticker - very few Cav’s live to 10. Pru blew past that and made it almost to 13.

A cynic might say that this is just another thing about us top-of-the-food-chain dwellers; we get to screw up other species by mixing different breeds for our own enjoyment. For example, Labradoodles are being diagnosed with hip dysplasia, elbow dysplasia and Addison’s; all recognized disorders in both parent breeds. 

Ah well, no price is too high to satisfy our human whims.

Penny Lane (Died of kidney failure at two)

Cavaliers are, or at least Prudie was, weird about other dogs. Not mean just not interested - Cavs don't have a mean bone in their body. The only other dog that Pru got excited about was our neighbor's Cavalier, a smaller spitting image of her, their darling Chloe. Those two could spot each other blocks away! The sad punchline: Chloe died last fall . . . of heart problems, leaving Pru friendless.

Boating with mom

            But I digress.

One of their less than positive traits, besides dying young, is incredible shedding. Yes, Cav’s have a gloriously beautiful coat - and they share it generously throughout the house. We or our cleaning lady could vacuum up what seemed a full dog’s worth of hair every time. Very irritating (but she always did it with a grimace smile on her face.) You guessed it though, Mrs Dear Leader and I now really miss that irritating chore. We also miss the click, click, click of her nails as she moved from one of her lounging areas to another. (Towards the end that was pretty much her only exercise.) Yes, it was time.

Wow, try this dad, it's really comfortable!

We also "miss" the chore of administering her medicine twice a day. Yeah, ironically Pru’s heart was as strong as a bull's but she had canine diabetes. Anyway, she and I had developed our own little routine for giving her medicine: five little pieces of cheese – a favorite of her’s – dispersed with her joint medicine pills, the insulin and her eye drops, (did I mention that Mrs Dear Leader had gifted Pru with cataract surgery - $$$$ - a couple years ago?) Anyway, five pieces. Twice a day. Every day. She knew and expected every step to be followed and knew when it was due. Never was there a better patient.

Don't leave me in FL!

I admit I don’t miss paying the 300 bucks a month for the medicine. Nonetheless, I would be delighted to do so if she were still with us. But as I said, it was time. Between the pills and shots and trips to the vet you could see in her beautiful brown eyes that she was just . . . weary.

As an aside, apparently vets and pharmaceutical companies cracked the code on how much we love our pets and decided to cash in by gouging us. (Sorry, sore subject with me.) 

I think we have all thought about – and envied? - the person who went to sleep and just never woke up. Well, we were hoping that would happen with Prudie. We had been through the terrible pain and turmoil of putting our Penny Lane to sleep and knew what that meant. But not to be – she was a tough old girl! - so MDL, the strongest and bravest between us, finally made the decision and the arrangements.

Smart dog, knows her dad! 

The saving grace is that today you can have the vet come to your house. Your best friend can be comfortable in her own home as you say good bye. It was all very peaceful and calm as she quietly went to sleep . . . forever. 

It hurts like hell but we are comforted by the fact that it was the right thing to do. Maybe someday we’ll figure out a way to treat us humans with this kind of dignity and peace when it's our time.

There is this wonderful poem and meme called the Rainbow Bridge. It alludes to your pet passing over a bridge when they die to some mystical place where they await their human to join them. It’s a sweet, comforting sentiment. Even though I doubt we "go" anywhere when we keel over, I would sure be delighted to go wherever the dogs are. (Sadly, I’m pretty sure they wouldn't have us troublesome humans!) 

Pretty girl    2013-2026

Finally, one thing I have learned is that perhaps aside from your mother, you will never be loved by anyone like you are by your dog. Don't take it for granted!

So that is our tale of joy and woe, all part of giving your heart to a pet. 

Thanks for allowing me to share.

PS

The more clever among you maybe caught the naming theme we inherited from our daughter. Hmmm, what for the next puppy: Lady Madonna, Lovely Rita, Polyethylene Pam, Eleanor . . . ?

But I think it will be a while before we go through this again.

Music

Good Dogs   Jameson Rodgers