On the niceness scale, Levi loves to sun himself in front of the glass door off the living room. He thinks he's a cat or something. He pulls his bed from the kitchen through the dinning room, plops it down in his favorite sunny spot, and crawls inside to enjoy his chew stick. This would be okay if he had 'normal' parents. But hauling his bed around turns our Dad's wheelchair path into an obstacle course. Dad doesn't seem to mind, though. He just laughs and uses one of his few words---shit---and Mom comes running to clear him a toy-free path. And when Dad moves around half the time Levi is right there edging backwards in front of the chair as he tries to pull the sock of Dad's paralyzed foot. Most of the time Dad laughs at that, too, unless he's in a hurry to pee. That's when Mom hears, "Oh, shit!" with some urgency that causes her to run faster than the laughing 'shit.'
Levi's puppiness was good for a few smiles this week. It snowed where my folks live and it was the first time he's seen the white stuff. Snow was on the deck and Levi was so joyful, shouting in his little brain, "Frosty Paws, Frosty Paws!" as he tried to eat it all up. I can't wait to see how he acts when they get five-six inches of snow. Mom will probably have a hard time getting him to come inside.
Guess I'd better get back to my heavenly duties. There's a line of angel-dogs behind me waiting to look down through the magic water to check on their humans. ©