March wanders in

March has wandered in with shuffling feet and limp-wristed salutes. This winter, there has been no ice, no snow, no pine limbs crashing into the yard or onto the house. December, January, February, mild, apologetic and ineffectual. And now here's March, all friendly and under-stated.

MB took the day off from work to get a head start on weekend chores. It didn't work out. I knew it wouldn't. We kept finding errands to stall us from home activities. I was glad to accompany MB on what were clearly unnecessary errands; I think we both got more pleasure out of riding around together in the car than we would have if MB had chosen to dust or sweep. Besides, as MB likes to point out, any shopping trip that results in no purchases is a successful shopping trip.

Toward the end of the day she called the office to find out who was there. Usually there's no one there on a Friday afternoon who would object to my presence -- and that was the case today. So off we went. MB had gotten into a plant-care mode and had a new batch of fertilizer she just had to spread.

We didn't realize that the receptionist had also counted on the absence of anyone who would care about a dog's visit, and had brought her own inferior mutt in. When MB threw the football down the hall, I took a detour for the yapping yorkie-poo, or whatever he is, and of course the receptionist over-reacted. She snatched the mongrel up in her arms, gave me a terrible glare and stormed off to stash him in her car. MB said we taught her an important lesson about bringing her non-neutered dog to work. Exactly. What was he doing there?

It was late in the afternoon, and there wasn't much time to kill. MB watered and fertilized and misted and shifted the plants and we left.

MB was really excited to see a letter from her Dad awaiting our return home. She refused to read it aloud but I gave it a glance when she was distracted in the kitchen.

Oh, everyone's a critic, but in the face of objections, warnings and literary quibbles, I stand on all fours and count myself lucky for a thick skull and a double-coat of fur. I will add that I've been to MB's office and I've smelled her co-workers' desks, fingers and groins. It is thus with some authority that I can assure the fretful reader that there's nothing in my blog that poses a threat to anyone's emotional well-being, job security or career options.

It does matter to me, after all, that MB continue to keep me in biscuits and filtered water. I've asked her to be mindful of my interests as she makes choices, and she has assured me that she will.