Musings & Threads. The Belt.
The Belt
I have fostered and rehabilitated many dogs over the years, so I have learned a lot of tricks. One of them is a belly band for incontinent or unhousetrained male dogs. A belly band is a strip of cloth about 5 inches longer than the circumference of the dog’s belly. Sew Velcro strips at each end, place a urinary incontinence pad inside, wrap it around his private parts and voila! Any undesired urination goes into the pad. (I just have to remember to take it off when he goes outside.) When one of my elderly male dogs lost his flawless housebreaking, a belly band was a small price to pay to be able to have one more happy year with him.
As a relatively new widow, taking care of two aging dogs can be somewhat daunting. Regardless, I believed that I needed to move forward with my life and attempt to date. I had been out of the market for over 25 years, so I was inexperienced, ineffective and confused.
But, to my surprise, one day I saw a man out of the corner of my eye notice me. I observed him follow me while I went shopping, but when I turned around to smile at him, he was gone. At the checkout stand I saw him quickly maneuver to get behind me. I tried to muster my best unawkward smile and he returned it. He started to take the items out of his cart and then he saw it. I had come to the Target to buy urinary incontinence pads for my dog. The shrink wrapped bright green package was rolling all alone on the conveyor belt.
The man’s face instantly reflected a look of panic, trying to decide whether to go to another counter or ignore me. I had one moment to say something, but somehow, “they are for my dog” seemed akin to the “dog ate my homework.” He mumbled something and moved to the next aisle.
The bright green shrink-wrapped package continued its slow, bumbling journey down that belt. The check-out person waved it in the air and asked if I wanted a bag. I said no.
Potential date averted.
