Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Swirl Understands What Tastes Great
Where and how do I start? Swirl. The amazing Swirl.
I’d like Swirl to understand that wood is not a food, that he shouldn’t stand at a tree and chew on its branches, that digging for wood chips that are wet and soggy and full of awful things that should stay buried is unbecoming.
I’d like Swirl to understand that someday, he will blow up from all the wood he’s eaten, that it’s accumulating in his stomach like a beaver’s dam, that students in veterinary schools will study his stomach contents and wonder how he managed to survive for so long carrying around a small forest in his gut.
I’d like Swirl to understand that his eating wood is troublesome but pales in comparison to other things he has eaten like money, the Sunday comics, the title to a son’s car, numerous pens, a book on Constitutional Law, my pajamas, several drawer knobs, plastic milk jugs, earrings, Tylenol (yes, we went to the vet for that one), toothbrushes, dish towels, rake handles, drawers, spatulas, and cat toys.
I’d like Swirl to understand that none of this matters because he is so handsome and wonderful. But he knows that already. He never doubted that for a single second.
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Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
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“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
We had a “Swirl” growing up named Nikki. When we would bring armloads of wood inside for the wood stove, Nikki would wait for the wood to hit the ground and then select the perfect piece to chew on the living room carpet.
She had strong Husky jaws and a gut like Swirl.
Thanks for stirring my memories of childhood with your precious stories of Swirl.👍🏻
I’d say Swirl has a very diverse palate, but sadly, crayons don’t seem to among his favorites.
Oh, Swirl! If only he “wood” have known! He’s a keeper for sure! 🐾💕
I’ve always thought that “Swirls Chewed Things”should become a children’s book- just sayin’…
That final picture screams out I am free and loving life! He is one lucky dog that Swirl.
Swwirl and Max could get together to discus the plastic milk jugs they’ve shewed to bits. We now carefully dipose of them before he notices.