Lockport Union-Sun & Journal — As everyone in the Western Hemisphere knows, this past Sunday was Super Bowl Sunday. The whole season came down to one, final, championship game. And the big question would finally be answered by day’s end: Did I order enough pizza?
As usual, I was home for the game. For the past several years, I’ve hunkered down in my easy chair and watched it with my good friend (and dog), Maggie. (My wife likes football but she is usually pre-occupied with about a half-dozen other things – she slows down like that on Sundays.)
This year, however, that dog-and-me scenario changed.
It was just before kick-off when I learned of Maggie’s plans.
“Look,” Maggie said, “I know you’re expecting me to watch the game with you, but Eddie, Bailey and I are going to go out-back and sniff dead rodents and stuff.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, in disbelief.
“Well, the (neighborhood) dogs and I just thought we’d … you know … do our thing and ...”
“Do your ‘thing’?” I interrupted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I was a little upset, knowing full well that she’d be up to her usual ‘bad dog!’ shenanigans while I sat alone.
“You’re kidding?” I continued. “How am I supposed to get ‘the wave’ going all by myself? I need you. I thought we were a team?!”
“We are – but it’s not that often that we get together, bark and smell each other. Dog stuff.”
Reluctantly, I let her go with her pals — but I made her promise not to bring back any dead animal parts. I wanted no souvenirs. She agreed – and off she went.
So, to fill the void, I called my friend Gary Gross. He lives just outside town.