Meet my cousin, Andy. His pet mom is Aunt Sara Jane who is a good friend of Grandma’s. Grandma calls Andy the “bunny rabbit dog.” When she walks in the door, he jumps straight up, not on her, but vertical in his excitement over Grandma showing up.
Grandma smiles and tells me, “Petey, that’s the welcome we’re going to get when we arrive in heaven.”
While he’s bouncing up and down, the cats are scattering and Aunt Sara Jane is fussing at him to quit “ky- yi- ing.” We’ve never heard that word before, but it makes Grandma and me laugh. Grandma thinks it’s a Native American word that means “jumps like an armadillo.”
Grandma changed from the rabbit idea to the “dillo” idea when she remembered watching her son shoot an armadillo that was tearing up her lawn. It launched straight up into the air, which astonished Grandma. She asked her son about it.
“That’s just what armadillos do when you shoot them,” he shrugged.
Once the grand entrance is made, Cousin Andy and I run through the doggie door to check out the back yard. I like to sniff and find out what’s been going on since the last time I was there.
When we finish that, we come inside for a nap. Grandma was seriously injured almost two years ago and we stayed for a while with Aunt Sara Jane. Andy helped me with Grandma.
Even though Grandma thinks Andy is silly at times, she believes Andy is actually royalty.
“He just has a regal look about him,” she tells me. “He has class!” (Unlike the shaggy wild boy look I’ve got going…)
I get embarrassed when she retells that, but that doesn’t seem to stop her.
Apparently, Cousin Andy was listening to the story. He was kind enough not to say anything while we were there, but the next day he sent a message to me:
I talked to Andy a few days afterwards. He coached me on how to use self-control when it comes to birds. It takes a lot of practice, but Grandma says I’m doing much better now. Thanks Cousin Andy!