It's Tuesday night. My son Hawk had a doctor's appointment in Rapid City earlier that afternoon. Afterwards, we spend some time with Ryan (my oldest son who goes to school in Rapid) and load up a basketball hoop and pole into the Suburban so I don't start my almost three hour journey until 7:30 p.m. But before we leave, I must get a cup of coffee at Starbucks. Of course at 7:30 at night they are out of dark roast (I like the darkest, blackest, strongest brew) so I wait as the lovely lady makes me a cup special. It takes a few minutes. I watch the food channel while I wait. She brings me the cup and I am off. Hawk has been waiting impatiently for me. I put an extra seat belt around him to keep him on the seat but he is a master at moving his legs and his legs are like spider legs -- super long. He keeps kicking my coffee cup as I drive. He's not happy (I don't know why. I had bought him a special travel pillow so his head and neck could be comfortable. He oughta be grateful I think!). The basketball pole rattles. And because two weeks ago I tried to fix the Suburban's CD player, I have no radio. And the sun is going down. And Hawk is still kicking his legs. And I realize my night vision really sucks. So my brain is a bit on the edge when I get a phone call. It's Cheyenne (I am Mom):
Cheyenne: Mom, Pete shook a lot and fell down and he isn't getting up. He has stuff coming out of his mouth and he is just lying there.
Mom: Is he breathing? Can he stand up?
Cheyenne: He's breathing but he's just lying there.
Then my connection dies. I am going up and down tall hills. Connection is really sketchy. But my 15 year old son is lying comatose and I am away from him. I call back. No answer. Cheyenne callls back.
Cheyenne: I got him to stand up.
Mom: Let me talk to him (by this time I am yelling. I am frantic. What am I going to do?)
Mom: Pete, It's Mom. Are you okay? (pause -- I hear nothing. Not even him breathing) Did you let me talk to him?
Mom: Well? Did he respond?
Cheyenne: Mom, his front legs were shaking.
Mom: What do you mean his front legs were shaking? He only has two legs.
Cheyenne: His front legs Mom.
Mom: He only has two legs. What do you mean his front legs were shaking? Has Pete got up yet. What's going on?
Cheyenne: Not Pete, Mom. Zeke. Zeko. Zeko, our dog.
Mom: Oh. Is he okay?
Well, you get the idea. It wasn't Pete. It was Zeke. And my daughter insists they do not sound the same. From her perspective she had a crazy mother on the phone screaming about her dog only having two legs and wondering why her mother wanted to talk to a dog but she went along with her mother and put the phone on speaker phone so her crazy mom could talk to the dog. And why was her mom yelling for Pete when she wanted to talk to the dog?
Maybe I do need a hearing aid.
By the way I finally took the travel pillow off Hawk when we were almost home and he finally settled down. He hated the travel pillow. And he was just trying to tell me that. Sorry Hawk.
And my daughter says, "Do you know how stupid you sounded on the phone? I deserve a pop and a candybar."