Raging Dad

This past summer, on our visit to Minnesota, we were able to see Raging Mom’s grandmother’s new apartment. She had moved out of her home, looking for a smaller place that was closer to town, just as many folks do when they are in their 80s.

It was a lovely little apartment with ample closet space and a nice gas fireplace with simulated flickering fire light; it is perfect for her needs. Raging Great Grammy had a little dog at her old place, and one of the sad parts of moving into senior housing was giving up her pet. Being a widow of almost 10 years, companionship had become very important. Of course, the upside is that now she has an entire community of folks to tap into.

It’s like a dorm for old folks. Seriously, I am betting you that those old birds party like rock stars. I saw the puzzle room, and let me tell you, when the nuclear winter comes they are set for years.

Sonny pets the slumbering hound.

As we were sitting talking with Raging Great Grammy, the kids were playing with her small box of toys. Anytime there is a new set of toys to dig into, they get interested. Plus, some of these were pretty sweet. She had a He-Man guy and some trucks. Not bad for the old folks’ home!

Anyway, I was sitting in a chair across from the fireplace, and noticed a small stuffed dog on a blanket underneath a side table. Nothing about the toy stood out to me right away, it was your typical stuffed dog. It looked comfy snoozing on its pillow.

As I continued to watch it, I began to notice something odd about it. After a while I realized what it was: the creepy thing was breathing! Powered by batteries, the dog’s side rises and falls at a pace that completely resembles a slumbering animals breath rate.

Amazing. I asked Raging Great Grammy about it, half wondering if she talked to the thing, fed it and took it for walks to the puzzle room. It turns out that one of her grandkids gave it to her when she moved. She said it makes her smile; it reminds her of home. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to be in that situation, leaving your home of many years and downsizing all of your belongings into a shoebox-sized apartment. And with all of that stress, to also have to give up your furry companion.

Even though that fake breathing dog gave me the heebie jeebies, I guess the fact Raging Great Grammy is able to find some comfort from its presence is pretty cool.

I don’t want to get old.

Song of the day: “Try Not To Breathe,” by R.E.M.