The Rites of Passages

"Can we keep him? Can we keep him?" I knew it was only a matter of time before I heard my son ask me that question again. It had been almost four months since Johnny was at the front door holding a brown cat in his arms (a one-eyed cat) begging for us to keep him. I buckled under the question and Johnny later named that one-eyed cat Macaroon who had since been present in every family photo taken.

But now Johnny stood, bent over and scratching behind the ears of a yellow, well, more black because of the oil and filth, mutt. Unlike Macaroon, this animal had both eyes. It was missing a leg though. I couldn't bare the sight. Between the three-limbed dog and the glassy eyes of Johnny I caved. "Of course you can keep him."

Johnny named him Nong out of his insistance that the mutt looked like Egg Nog, which of course Johnny always mispronounced as Egg Nong. "Merry Christmas mom," he would say, "Can we have some Egg Nong now?" And like clockwork his mother would try to correct him, "Johnny, it's Nog, not Nong!" And like a digital watch, Johnny would come back with the usual, "That's what I said - Nong." Round and round they would go.

After a two hour bath, the three-limbed mutt joined the one-eyed cat as our household pets. And with Johnny turning 30 this year, there was no telling what was going to happen.

Post a Comment