"Where's the dog food?" I called.
"In the dishwasher!"
"Right, right. Forgot."
I opened the dishwasher and pulled out the rack. There in neat rows were cans of pet food.
"It doesn't matter. Hurry! Boogie knows what's about to happen!"
I rushed back to the living room with a can of Surf 'n' Woof. Mom had her fat poodle in her lap. I popped the can and she fingered the creamy mush.
"Now be good, you silly...!"
Mom forced her fingers into Boogie's misaligned mouth. She was feeding the dog anti-anxiety meds. Boogie writhed and coughed. It wrinkled its nose.
"Good boy! Good boy! There, there, now you just relax, honey. Just relax...."
Boogie flapped and curled his tongue. Creamy mush laced the curls around his snout.
"Hopefully he won't go nuts when I'm out of the house. He just can't stand it when I'm gone from him."
I had been telling Mom how I didn't go to Mexico because Rachel had a crisis at work. But everything was going to be okay. We planned to go later... Boogie burped.
On the top of the recliner were dribs and drabs of Tender Vittles put out for the cat, Mewy. I told Mom I didn't like sitting on her chair because I didn't like getting cat food in my locks of hair. She poohed. Vittles made excellent conditioner.
"So I saw that new Ben Stiller movie last night."
"Yes..." I was trying to distract Mom and mainly myself from Boogie erotically licking at Mom's creamy fingers. "I was feeling fairly lonely, so I went to the theater. Turned out the theater was completely empty. But I was a little early, so I sat out in the lobby to read my Nabokov. When I returned to the theater, it was still empty. The manager came in and saw me. 'I was going to tell you to turn off your cell phone,' he said. 'But it looks like you've got the whole place to yourself. Enjoy your private screening!' I told him thanks and began to softly weep to myself..."
Mom wasn't listening. Still holding Boogie, she had out her phone.
"I don't understand Facebook. Why are all of Cinira's friends talking about me?"
There was a photo of Taylor, her granddaughter, and a thread of comments under it.
"Linda this, Linda that... But everything is in Brazilian. I don't understand a word of what they're saying to me!"
(We learned later that linda means beautiful in Portuguese.)
"I don't know, Mom. Anyway, I had to deal with Aaron Roth today."
Mom looked up. "Is this a sad story?"
"Yes, very sad. Aaron Roth comes in every week, parks his bike next to my desk and very loudly wants service. He's over fifty, has a weird bony face and tiny beady eyes. He's also missing a few teeth."
"Oh, I don't want to hear this..."
"Anyway, yesterday he wanted to know where the novels were. 'Where the novels at?' he shouted. I told them they were on the second floor. But it turned out he wanted to know where the 'she-male' novels were. I explained to him that we had fiction, mystery, sci-fi, romance... but, regrettably, no she-male section. He was pretty upset. Finally, he came back and checked out a bunch of Jillian Michaels DVDs."
Bruce Jenner, everyone.
"Now you're upsetting Boogie!"
"Good. Hey, maybe I'll take one of those pills, Mom. Come on, give me one! COME ON!!"
I snatched at the pills. Mom punched at me. Boogie barked. Finally, I got a pill and ran out the door, laughing.
"You are not my son!" Mom called after me.
Ha! Now I don't have any more depression. In fact, I feel grrea-- WOOF!