Matthew 27:46--now with blasphemy!

Mum got here last night around 7. I greeted her with Coupland in hand, as got her bag out of the minivan.
"Oh! He is so adorable, he's just about perfect, much cuter than his picture. Aren't you Aren't you cuter than your picture?" Before the day was over she would decide that he simply doesn't photograph well. Or maybe it's his Mum that doesn't look too hot in pictures. How does a dog not photograph well? He's a dog-I've never known a dog to worry about extra chins or ten pounds. Me, well, I've seen enough pictures of me to know that I look much better in person. Or at least I hope I do-cuz in pictures I look like shit. In pictures, it's clear why I am never asked on dates. In person, I think my personality clears that issue up.
But anyway. Mum got here and we had dinner and drank some champagne. We toasted Coupland-he wanted a drink-but we said NO! Dogs that weigh less than a decent sized pork tenderloin should not drink alcohol. At one point she become amused with one of Cope's toys. She made me promise not to write about it-this is too bad, because it was hilarious and involved a toy that talks. I don't understand her hestitance to allow me to write about her quirks. The way I see it she isn't using all of her stories or personality traits and it is a major waste of a personality to not include these stories in my writings. All the time I get encouragement to write and write and write, then I start and I get limitations. She doesn't want to sound like a flake or a weirdo. But she is neither of these-she's my mother, a very unusual, lovely, intelligent person deserving of a narrative. I don't think Daddy has realized how writable he is, or maybe he wants to hear one of his stories on NPR one day when he's out driving around. Talk about a "driveway moment" That would take the damn cake wouldn't it? Hearing about yourself as described by your child on All Things Considered.
ANYWAY-Cope took to Ma like bread to butter. He just decided her lap was THE little dude hang out and everytime I looked for him he was in one way or another situated on her lap, or shoulder, or in some way near him. He's so ridiculously cuddly. Baxter was the King, a wonderful and handsome creature full of pride. He was amazing as dogs go, a creature to be reckoned with, everyone that met him was taken with his Baxter-ness. I miss him, even with Coupland here, I miss Baxter so much. I wish there was a way to have Bax back and , even for only a short time. He was my love. To not have him here seems inappropriate. He was always here. That he didn't get to meet Cope bothers me, I can only ASSUME that Bax approves of this little dog, I can't know. I know this much is true--they came to me with suspiciously similar stories. It comforts me to think that there is a correlation...
Except Coupland and Mum get along much better than Mum and Baxter. Possibly this has to do with Cope's small size--he's a highly portable dog. He is very cuddle-buggish. The dog and the mom spent the entire day on the couch curled up half or all the way asleep.
"My dog! My dog! Why have you forsaken me?" I exclaimed.
"Oh, Copie, you've made your mama sad. Look, she's gonna cry. You're gonna make your mama cry Cope, you better give her some love."
"Sigh," said the dog.
"Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?"
"Grrr-reow." Stretch."Hmph"
"Fine, fine, Mama, you just take that dog home with you. He doesn't love me. I get it. He loves you so much more."
Why even when we were watching Strangers With Candy (during the two episodes I was laughing like a damn fool and Ma didn't laugh at all but did read the dog one of the LIttle Golden Books I have sitting on the coffee table-perhaps to drown out the show she found so not funny) he did not watch the show that nearly gave him his name but spent the entire hour cuddling with his Gran.
All my love is gone.
I left for school shortly before 4. The dog seemed non-plussed. I figured he would spend my absence rejoicing. Some comfort comes from the fact that I was told that he cried "OH! WAH! OwoooOOOWWW!!" when I left and was inconsolable. He even insisted on going with Mum to Kroger and the liquor store. Rumour has it he was a good boy all that time, except for the whining.
Meanwhile, I realized when I got to school that I was an eejit and had left my wallet at home-course I had barely enough gas to get home, I probably could've made it--maybe...or not. One of my folkloristic cohorts offered to loan me $5 for gas and I'm happy to say I took him up on that. I think I could've made it home without the loan, but I gotta say it felt a lot less stressful driving home with the loaner gas than it would have been otherwise.
When I walked in Little Dude and Ma were asleep on the couch with NPT playing on the TV. My dog has forsaken me-there's no 2 ways around it. He likes my mummy best. Oh he's being all "Look how cute I am, all cuddled next to you on the couch right now." He probably is just lusting after Anderson Cooper-I have no illusions...the dog loves not me. He loves the warm and the attractive. At times that might be me--rare times when he can't get a better gig.