Dog and macaw show

Flashback to last Friday--Oh, how can it be almost a week ago already? I took a break from sitting beside Dad's bed, and entrusted him over to the care of the round-the-clock nurse.  Got a Subway sandwich and drove to my favorite Plano park.  Starting down the trail I saw a young family soaking up the sunshine on this beautiful afternoon:

• Two parents lounging on an old quilt next to a cooler
• One toddler sitting up in a patch of grass under the watchful eye of a small dog
• One preschooler sitting in a little red wagon supervised by a big dog

The scene did more for me than the sandwich, and I set off on a quick walk around the lake.  Circling back toward the Buick the family scene got even better:

• Dad throwing a frisbee for the small dog to the delight of the toddler
• Mom flying a gorgeous macaw kite
• Big dog pulling the red wagon and preschooler around in circles in the meadow

"That's a great kite," I hollered at the mom, craning my neck and squinting up into the bright blue sky.  "Twelve dollars at Costco," she hollered back.

Back beside Dad under the hypnotic spell of the respirator, I wondered about the meaning of "dog and pony show".  In my experience it is used to mean the peons are trotting out their whole underfunded bag of tricks to entertain an entitled,  blasé  audience.  The dog and macaw experience seemed gloriously authentic. If I'd had more time I would have requested a ride in the wagon!

I still remember my dad taking me to watch many kite-flyers at Pioneers Park.  Dad flew a basic Ben Franklin Five & Dime box kite, red and green.  There were so many flyers I can't imagine how they stayed untangled.

I read The Kite Runner in Dad's hospital room five years ago, after he broke his hip the second time. It was a time suspended without night or day, tangled between reality and hallucination.  This vigil I read Elmore Leonard's new Raylan, which was not so deep.  Elmore Leonard is still writing entertaining crime dialogue at age eighty-six.  I hope I'm still blogging about kites in 2041!

© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder