Mr. Cody

For those of you on myspace, you will recognize this picture. It's probably my favorite picture of me and my fuzzy son. This is Mr. Cody and he turned eleven in August. Many of you have heard all kinds of things about Cody, and most of them are probably not the kinds of things that make you wish that you had a dog just like him. Understandably, he answers to "asshole", and has learned that he should at least feign repentance even when he plans on doing the offense again at his earliest convenience. This cleverness, and well, that cute little face is why he has made it to his ripe old age. Several times I have "had it" and created fliers with the title: Free Husky. It's then that he digs around in his bag of tricks and pulls out something endearing, and I throw them away. So last night Jack and my friend Josie took Cody to the emergency clinic at ten o' clock because he was whimpering and could only make left turns. He was a train wreck, as was I. I sat home fretting about him, assuming the worst, and grateful and sad all at the same time that I wasn't with them. So naturally, by the time they drove forty minutes to the vet, Cody appeared to be acting more normal. Doesn't that figure! They pretty much sent him home to be watched. That was definitely worth a hundred bucks! Today he's a little droopy, but able to move around ok. He probably just had a stroke. The funny thing about it is, that I don't know how many times that I've thought about killing him myself, or thinking that I would be fine without the bastage, but the reality is that he's still my baby. My wayward, evil baby, but he's a Murray, so I should expect this. Poor Jack got home at one thirty in the morning, which was just in time to get about an hour of sleep before his alarm went off. We've always joked about the fact that if something ever happened to Cody that we would definitely get a different type of dog, something easier, maybe even prone to obedience, but the funny thing is that we would just want another husky. He keeps us entertained for sure, and his eccentricities are what we love about him. Later. Much later. After we've cleaned up whatever mess, or bandaged up our wounds, then we can laugh. But we do, and many find great joy in the Cody stories. In fact, I wrote at least three different essays for a class about various Cody stories, and they were famous. I could write a book! In any case, I'm grateful that he's ok, and that we can continue to enjoy the golden years with him. The Lord only knows that we deserve it.

P.S. Don't you think he looks a wee bit annoyed with me? Sometimes that makes me happy!