Haunted is the night.
Some fear not the witches broom.
I fear the weight gain.
I’ve been thinking my corgi, Maddie, needed a sweet treat.
She’s been a trooper this fall, buzzing around the yard in spite of the lameness of her back legs.
“Hey girl, I’ve got something special for you,” I proudly announced.
I placed a dog eared copy of the late Tash Tudor’s book “Corgiville Fair” in front of her.
I’d just picked it up at the used book store thinking we’d read it together to my dog crazy 3 year old grandson. I’d lost my first corgi’s copy several years before.
Maddie sniffed each colorful page I turned and looked very excited.
At least initially.
But her smile disappeared as I closed the book and continued to do yard work.
It seems Maddie really thought we were going to a fair where corgis rule the county.
I felt guilty as I kept raking the falling maple leaves with Maddie looking so downtrodden.
After a while, I went into the kitchen to check on my baking in the oven.
I then walked out to the backyard with a slice of warm apple pie for Maddie.
Her sweet smile returned, wider than before, as she licked her bowl clean.
Including that deliciously fragrant dollop of cinnamon ice cream I’d added.
Maddie now knows, even if she’s never named Miss Corgi at a fair, she’ll always be the reigning queen of this household.
My hair is a fright.
But do you think I care?
My old clothes are dirty.
And I’ve nothing to wear.
But hey, it’s the weekend.
I’m full of good cheer.
Or should I say, ‘was’?
As I’ve just felt a tear.
My little pumpkin friend, just met her demise.
That rascal, the squirrel, thought he was being so wise.
But if he’d waited a week, he’d have earned the sweetest treat.
10 pounds of chocolate kisses, a prize he could never beat.