Venus M(eats) Tom

In preparation for my post this morning, I re-read last year’s post about Thanksgiving. Last October we invited 18 family members for dinner, I bought a huge TOM Turkey which I had trouble lifting into the car, and then I read a magazine article titled “How to Host the Perfect Thanksgiving” which I followed exactly, of course. That was only 12 months ago, but how the world has changed since then!

For this year’s Thanksgiving: instead of 18 guests, my husband Peter and I had just ourselves, and a few short back-yard family visits. Instead of striving for perfection, I was striving for survival. And in addition to TOM, we had Venus. Venus is my son’s big dog and she has trouble getting into cars too. She came to visit while my son and daughter-in-law went on a short vacation.

Venus is a little puppy in an adult dog’s body. She spent her time running from the living room, where she had a dog-height window from which to view passing pedestrians (and one racoon), to the back porch, where she could stalk the neighbour’s cat, Minou. Back and forth, back and forth she went, her routine only interrupted when I “stole” her ball. This squeaky orange orb with spikes looks amazingly like a covid germ. She carries it around, stopping only to squeak it if she is stressed. It’s like her security blanket, her worry beads.

Another thing we did was go for walks, twice a day. I had no idea there were so many dogs in our new neighbourhood. I counted 11 on one walk alone. As all dog-walkers know, it’s best to avoid one another because dogs have a different sense of which other dogs are OK to meet. Venus can spot a yappy, mouse-like creature and it’s love at first sight. Or she can come across an adorable male specimen and growl as if he’s a terrorist. Venus checked out all the other options on our walks, but not one was suitable. Instead she wanted to go home to see TOM.

TOM was the highlight of Venus’s visit. He was huge and she was impressed that we went to such expense just for her. She watched intently as I stuffed him and put him in the roasting pan. She hung around the kitchen salivating for 4 hours while he roasted up. Then Peter and I sat down to eat our quiet Thanksgiving dinner, making small talk while Venus waited nearby. Her contributions to the conversation were grunts and snorts, indicating that her patience was running thin.

After dinner, we sliced TOM up and gave some to Venus. She “gobbled” every mouthful. Then she spent the rest of the evening lying on the living room rug, doing turkey toots. Very rude, I thought.

Meanwhile Peter and I made up 5 packages of meat, stuffing, gravy; one for each of our “kids.” On Saturday Venus went home, accompanied by her parents and one of the packages tucked safely under the front seat. The other families made arrangements to drop by on Sunday or Monday, sit in the back yard, socially distanced for 1/2 an hour, and then pick up their Turkey To Go.

Today the house seems lonely. No more family visits, no holiday excitement, and no Venus running back and forth, squeaking her ball, or checking under the table for turkey bits. It’s going to be a long winter… Does anybody have a dog we can borrow?

Sue