Easter Doodle Parade

With Easter around the corner (like in 48 hours) we always face the conundrum of what happens with the pooch, Dizzy. When the celebration is at our home, Dizzy still has the run of the house (except during meal time) and is a part of the festivities. Yet, when we visit elsewhere, we know that the presence of a 70 pound doodle isn't always a situation easily dealt with.

And so it will be on Easter as we venture to our daughter's house, along with a whole Easter Parade of other family and friends. I anticipate 14 or 15 people, as well as Bingo, the granddog. Now, Bingo is a lovely dog, as is Dizzy. But the fact is that the combination of the two can be in the least, hectic. At worst, it's exhausting and not a little chaotic. Yes, Dizzy would be very welcomed, and our daughter and husband and kids would have no issue. But for us, chaos is best controlled if at all possible. Oy.

For us, this means that on Easter Sunday, the highest holy day of the Christian calendar, our parade will consist of only two to the celebration, leaving Diz behind in what he may not easily recognize as the peace and quiet of this domicile. And that's all well and good, except for the feeling of guilt that is inevitable with this process.

You see, Dizzy is a part of our family. My wife always reminds me that Dizzy is the only real "child" that I'll ever have (since the others are step kids). Leaving Dizzy behind is, well, disturbing. A day of celebration, with fun and food, and the poor pooch remains alone. All alone. In a barely lit home. Alone. Geez.

OK. I'm a bad doggie daddy. Dizzy is welcomed there, and we should take him to be with Bingo and the rest of the crowd. But we won't take Diz. We'll opt for a pseudo contribution to peace and quiet. Yeah. Sure.

Dogs are a part of our families. We love them like kids, we treat them like kids. We share the pain when they hurt, we laugh when they play, we grieve when they pass. Diz is our kid. We love him and care for him. We play with him, we train him, we feed him, we punish him. We comfort him and reward him, even if he gives us the paw.

After all, he is Dizzy the Doodle, master of all he surveys, including our hearts and minds. Even so, he will stay at home, alone, on Easter. And be absolutely thrilled when we come back to our humble abode.