A Material World

Those of you that know me, know that I am a sentimental person. Material things from my past are very important to me. Tangible history. That’s what it is. Stuff that I can touch, that I can smell, that takes me back to another time. I have T-shirts from high school (that I still wear). I have trinkets that were important to my grandparents. I still have a cross-stitched Indian head that my mom made for me 30 years ago. It’s a mish-mosh of stuff, spread throughout my house, that I can go back to and smile while thinking of different times.

Now that I have kids, I have collected even more stuff. I have a tiny green stuffed fish that Hannah would not be without when she was a baby. I have outfits that Hailey looked so adorable in that I squirreled them away somewhere for when I want to reminisce. Ella has her pink cowboy hat. She found it at a store while shopping with Staci. She loved it in the store so Staci bought it for her. It is probably her favorite clothing item of all time. She wears it everywhere. To the front, to the side, backwards…..she is always wearing it. It’s the kind of thing that makes you smile when you see her, even though you have seen it a thousand times already.

Today I came downstairs and I saw Sinta playing with something. I walked over and my heart sank. There between his paws was Ella’s hat. Pieces of it were everywhere. Sinta knew he screwed up and he knew what was coming. In a split second, as I reached for the hat, Sinta was up. His hackles were up and he started growling. I am sure that I telegraphed the degree of my anger, which helped nothing. As soon as he growled I changed gears. I left the hat and went after him. Sinta isn’t a house pet. He is a working dog. He is a dominate working dog who, every now and then, tests the water to see if I am still in charge. Today was one of those days.

I grabbed him at the same time her grabbed me, in the leg. Once that happened, it was go time. After a brief beat down, Sinta was healing at my side with his tail tucked. I picked up the hat and wanted to cry.

I took it upstairs and showed Staci and she did cry, which made it even worse for me. Sure, we could get another hat, but it’s not THE hat. We’ll keep it anyway. Ella hasn’t seen it yet. She’ll cry too. I’ll find another one for her to wear.

I purposely didn’t tell you where we got the hat. I know you guys too well. Within two weeks I would have 15 pink hats at my house. I know you would do that for me and I am grateful but I’ll find one.

Sinta still knows I am mad. He hasn’t been this obedient since we were in our initial training. I know he is just a dog but man….anything else would have been OK.

Dang it.