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My brother-in-law Jim is a great
guy. Visits to Minneapolis used to mean
latenight walks with him & Sam the dog,
during which Jim and I'd talk about this and
that. This trip was different. Sam is 15 now
and had had a December 22 trip to the
emergency vet to stitch up a big cyst on his
leg which had spontaneously (well, who knows,
maybe he bit it) ruptured, leaving blood,
lymph, and other doggy bodily fluids on the
floor. Springer Spaniels are not smart. Loyal,
affectionate to a fault, yes. But smart? No.
Sam sported a plastic neck cone to keep him
from pulling out his stitches. The whole five
days of our visit he bumped that cone into
everything, never learning that it was somehow
connected to his body. For whatever reason,
there were no long latenight walks. I didn't
even think about it till now.
Our last night, Jim drives home from work,
then takes his daughter Sarah to her hockey
league game an hour south to Mankato,
the town Mapquest forgot. Misled by bad web
directions, they get there during the 2nd
period. One 5-4 loss later, leaving the
arena they're greeted by heavy snow and inch
their way home where Big Sarah and I wait
for our ride to the train station. A
slow go, he skips dinner so we won't be
late. Without a word of complaint, Jim,
who'd had such a long day, helps load our
copious luggage (my sister had been very
generous with the gifts) and drives us past
at least one SUV spinout to
St. Paul in time for our 11:15 pm departure.
Margaret takes charge and helps us to our
gate. (Thank you!)
I hadn't seen snow in two years. It was
pleasingly sticky and Sarah and I threw
snowballs on
the platform while we waited for the "all
aboard!" Boarding a train is the best feeling.
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