ATE WEMBLY PART 2

AS you may have deduced by now, Mama went to New York, met Ate Wembly, and has found where her soul really belongs. She still doesn’t know how it’s going to happen. Will she work there, or work on making money here and then spend half of the year there? Will all that happen only after Grandma is gone, or will opportunities come soon? All she tells me is, the events of the last year have revealed much to her about the people she thought she would die with, and who she assumed would take care of her when she grows old. The biggest lesson of the last year for Mama—almost a year to the day, since the family got screwed up again by highly-publicized events—the biggest lesson has been, YOU’VE GOT TO FEND FOR YOURSELF. Things are so back to normal now on the surface, but really, even blood can’t be completely relied upon when the chips are down. You think you are part of a bigger unit, then just as suddenly, you realize you’re on the outside.

So, people, make sure you love yourself. People are strange. And that’s why Mama’s goal is to be completely self-sufficient, to choose her friends wisely, to accept the limitations of family—and to trust dogs more than people!

Speaking of dogs, here’s me and Ate Wembly catching up after Mama’s visit:

Wembly: Hello Banana dear, your Mama just left this morning—and heavens, my Mama says she was crying on the bus back to the airport!
Banana: Oh my! Was she sad, Ate? Did the city make her remember?
W: No, dear, it wasn’t the city at all. She loved the city, and I daresay she felt it loved her right back. In fact, she dreams of bringing you here one day, and I’m sure you would be delighted at all the nice spaces. Anyway, the fact is—she was actually crying about me.
B: What? Why ever for?
W: It’s sweet, and something I understand completely. She was telling your Mama that she was missing me—and was feeling afraid that she may not see me again, as she cannot come back until two years from now. Now, I don’t know if God will give me the gift of a longer life, but I guess she was afraid He might call me up to the dog park in the sky before we met again.
B: Oh my, what a morbid thought, but, well, it sounds like something Mama would cry about. She’s got the softest spot for us dogs, Ate. She’s even so pissed at her brother right now, because they want to buy a new dog—and poor Larry and Ruffa, their old dogs, don’t even have decent kennels! I swear, I think Mama would rather see people drop dead before dogs sometimes. But how do you feel, Ate?
W: When you get to my age, dear, you reconcile yourself with the inevitable. I’ve lived a good life, and I feel I have quite some wonderful time left. I guess when you’re a dog, it’s how well you live, not how long, because we cram several human lifetimes worth of love and honesty and joy in a few years. If you live long and are loved, then you’re blessed indeed. But enough sad thoughts, Banana dear, your Mama was delighted at the dogs she saw here. My Mama even took her to a doggie gym! And I must say, your Mama is just like mine in that she can’t seem to get enough of cuddling! It was quite funny, I tell you, having two noses in my face!
B: Oh dear, that’s Mama. I really don’t know how to tell her sometimes that I’d rather be sleeping than licking her fingers, but well, I don’t want to hurt her feelings. People can be such adorable, well-meaning pests, don’t you think?
W: Oh, indeed. Mama and your Mama even took me to that groomer down the street for a trim. Now, I have nothing against a little pampering, although that table was making me a little nervous—old bones, you know. But the evil man even said my behind smelled! The nerve! Do they have any idea how their behinds smell after sitting on that big bowl in the bathroom? Oh, if I were a Rottweiler I would have chewed his prissy nose off!
B: Oh, I’m sure he meant well, Ate. Did Mama get to go shopping?
W: Oh yes, I overheard her wishing she could bring you a huge fleece dog bed, but it didn’t make sense over there. Tropical weather, is it?
B: Quite, Ate. No winters here, and the summer can get soooo hot. In fact, Mama sometimes thinks I don’t like lazing around on her bed with her—but it’s really that the mattress is so much warmer than the floor.
W: Oh, I know what you mean; summers here are terrible, too. So your Mama did get to go to yoga—we could teach them a Downward Dog or two, haha!—and a couple of shows and a lot of shopping with my Mama. All this retail! Too bad we don’t like sniffing around for the same things. And then they spent your Mama’s last day here in the Park. I would have come along, but the walk’s too far for me now. Ahhh, I wish you could see it someday.
B: Wow, sounds wonderful. Ate, do you think I’ll ever see Manhattan?
W: Banana dear, be patient. Tomorrow it will be Boracay and some other beach. If your Mama can help it, you’ll be stopping at the lights on Broadway someday, too!
B: Oh, my mommy. I miss her so!
W: Just a few more days now, my dear, and your beloved human will be home. She misses you to bits, too. Take care of her—she’s had her troubles, but she is well and happy now. And I do believe you’ve played a huge part in that!