Last night after Henry’s appetite was satiated, thanks to a dinner of salmon and rice, and after a rather pleasant constitutional, the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel rested idly on the couch. With all the reverence I could muster, I said this to his Highness (whom without any question, descends from royalty):
“Master Henry, as I am heading to the country soon for a long, relaxing weekend, would you be so kind to post a blog in my stead?”
Henry stretched his front paws, idly gazing at his extended claws, which he determined were in need of a trim, and lackadaisically replied with a yawn,
“So you’re asking me again, is that it? Why, is the Boy Wonder not available?”
He meant, of course, Oliver, who runs amuck around the house, pretending to be a super hero, running faster than the speed of lightning. And often, it’s true.
“Well, Henry, you know Oliver doesn’t have the flair for writing that you have.”
“Indeed Cook, he does not,” Henry sighed. “But then, he’s not of royal blood, either.”
“No, only you are, well, so blessed,” I generously concurred. At which, Henry purred like a kitten.
I continued, “So will you write something on my behalf? Don’t forget, the San Diego Public Library is hosting a How-To Festival and I’ve already agreed to lead a session on the upside of divorce. So it’s very important you ask my readers for suggestions on what I should include in my workshop and also see if they’ll share as to what helped them find the positive side to their divorce.”
“I will do no such thing,” Henry blustered. “Doesn’t seem proper, not a bit. What if they say they have nothing to report?”
“That’s okay. After all, not everyone’s been divorced, so I don’t expect everyone to have an answer or a recommendation.”
“What if they’re offended by such an impertinent question?”
“Then they won’t answer at all, which is fine, too.”
“Oh I see how it is,” Henry persisted. “Leave it to me to do your dirty work while you gallivant in the countryside with friends. I won’t have it!”
“It’s no big deal if you can’t bring this up, Henry. I can ask them another time. The How To Festival is not until May.”
“Well, it’s just not right to put this upon me. I myself know nothing of divorce. Can’t imagine it’s any fun.”
“It isn’t. It’s awful, really, but I came out of it okay. Even better off than I was before, and that’s what I want to convey. That there’s some good to come out of it. There’s hope.”
“If you want my two shillings, you should advise your workshop attendees to adopt a dog. One like me should do it. After all, look at all the joy I’ve brought you, puttering around this old place! The Boy Wonder adds nothing to your life or mine, but where would you be without me??”
“Not sure that’s true, Henry, but you are special. I’ll tell everyone to get themselves a dog, one of your caliber that they can serve regally and fret over ad nauseam, as I do for you. A dog of, er, high maintenance, if you will.”
“Yes, that’s the ticket,” concurred Henry before doing a double take. “Wait! Did you call me high maintenance? How dare you. How rude! Now, fetch me a bone, Cook, to chew while I ponder over what I’m going to write. That’s if I decide to write.”
Just then, I heard a loud whir and felt a rush of wind tunnel through the room. I looked up but didn’t see anything out of the norm. Still, I felt something in my hand that hadn’t been there before. It was then I realized the Boy Wonder, aka, Oliver, had flurried by, faster than the speed of light, and had handed me a sheet of paper. A scribble of words filled the page. Slowly, I made out the heading. (Alas, penmanship was not Oliver’s forte.) Here’s what it said:
The Boy Wonder Writes a Blog
The First Posting by Oliver Twist, Maltipoo Extraordinaire
Wow, I thought, as I began to read the rest. The kid really can write!
“Um, Henry,” I said. “Looks like you won’t be needing to write a post in my absence after all.”
Confused, Henry gave me a blank stare.
Tune in next week to find out what Oliver wrote. In the meantime, any thoughts or suggestions for my divorce survival guide workshop are much appreciated!