Max

 Meet Max. My newest grandpuppy. Max will only be here until I can get to Minnesota and deliver him to his new owner, my grandson, Gavin.

I was minding my own business here at the kampground, sitting here in my broken chair at my desk, nimbly playing spider solitaire and thinking about taking a bathroom break. A woman that I only know from pool season entered in a cloud of perfume. As my sinus pain was in remission and I did not want it to return with a vengeance, I was concentrating on finding out what she wanted quickly.

She started her tale of woe about her granddaughter having surgery and needing to leave in a hurry as I half listened and made appropriate murmurs. She got to the part of a litter of puppies in her car and I saw my opportunity to go outside! She was on her way to the animal shelter in town to give the puppies up. They are Chihuahuas (she pronounced it shihuahua).

I had no intention of getting a puppy ...... none at all. I just wanted to get outside in fresh air. My sinus pain is making the left side of my jaw feel like I should grab some pliers and yank out my teeth. A little pressure, you know.

So, she pulls this kennel out and opens it up to reveal five little puppies, one of which was white and looked a lot like Wall-E. Wall-E, Gavin's first dog. Wall-E, who came to live with us when Gavin could not keep the dog in the apartment. Wall-E, the dog that Papa would not give up when Gavin moved and could have a dog. So, what was I to do? I mean she was headed to the dog pound, for heaven's sake!

Being wise beyond my years (okay, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration), I summoned he who is a sucker for puppies to the office and literally stuck the puppy in his face. "Are you thinking what I am thinking?" I asked. We both said "Gavin" at the same time. And that is how I came to be writing this with a little white puppy against my bare skin in my shirt.

 He was scared of my scary scarecrow, which is good, since that is the very definition of what scarecrows are supposed to do ......

He slept for awhile in his kennel, but is missing his litter mates now and wants the company of myself very close to him. I will not get attached to him! The scent of puppy breath is in the air and my sinuses have no problem with that!

Wall-E graciously gave up his own puppy blanket and wrote his boy a letter asking that he give the puppy without a name something to call him by, other than "it" or "puppy".
His name is Max and Gramma is planning a trip north to unite Max and Gavin.