The Pitiful Outcome of a Pitiful Pity Party


I now have sympathy for those who are away from home on holidays. It is a sad thing to walk outside, in the freezing cold, with no one to call by name, because you are the only person you know. You picture it: the whole family around the table; even that fourth cousin once removed who never comes to thanksgiving, decided that this year he would make an appearance. You sniffle...but not because you’re crying. You are sick. The cold has nipped at your nose one time too many, and now your throat feels it too. Your head is fuzzy and all you want is a hot bowl of Campbell’s, but they don’t have that where you are. All you can find is stuffed pig. A Cold, hard, stuffed pig. They call it a delicacy, but you just see it for what it is. The trees are all but dressed in their colorful leaves, and the clouds threaten to bring snow. Sneeze! You just want to curl up in front of the fire…But there are no fire places within reach. And then, just when you think no one could ever understand your lonely misery, you look up from the cracking sidewalk and your eyes meet his. He is a little rough around the edges, but he may be the only friend you will find. You ask him if he’d care to join you for a coffee. To your surprise and delight, he gently grins and wags his tail. So off you go into the wintry grey horizon, you and Rover.

Man, that's a pretty sad story, huh?