Remembering Maxine1/11/03 – 1/5/17
Remembering Maxine…and how she loved food.
The kitchen. My favorite room. I walk from one end to the other and ‘round Mom’s eating table every day, sniffing the floor as I go. It is possible a crumb might be laying around just waiting for me to find it. If I do, it is all mine and that pleases me. When Mom is cooking, I circle her legs hoping she drops something. If she does, it is all mine, which also pleases me. But, it does not please me when she uses the oven ‘cause she makes me back up far away from her before she opens its door. However, the cold box she calls a refrigerator is another matter. This morning she was taking things out of it and putting them on the counter. The door was wide open. Just as I put my paws on the bottom shelf and was climbing in I heard “Maxine Elizabeth” and felt Mom lift me up. Dang! Apparently she did not want me getting my own breakfast.
“Give it your best shot then let it be.”
– Author Unknown