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by Sy Guth, Copyright 1986


It was April Fool's Day night in San Francisco that I realized I probably wasn't going to be elected for "Best Goldie's Mother of the Year" award. That coveted award given to the best Goldie owner. They do give this award don't they? The day as it's properly celebrated in San Francisco was just a normal April Fool's Day -- the boy scouts were celebrating their 75th anniversary by camping out on top of the 47 story Embarcadero Four Building and the group that celebrate the day as St. Stupid's Day had tried to buy the Bank of America Building.

Having set the scene, the reasons that I wasn't going to make this coveted award were starting to become numerous. It started back in February when my Goldie bitch was, as they say, "in season". For Addie that phrase doesn't exactly apply -- she rolls over and plays easy to get any month of the year -- loose morals I suppose and poor up bringing. At any rate, I as a Goldie Mother, thought I would be real cool. I had listened attentively while two Goldie owner's talked about using little boy's briefs, size 2 or 3, for their bitches while they were "in season". Since Addie has the soft life of sleeping inside, this sounded like a great idea.

This idea probably works better in a situation where the Goldie is a little brighter than her owner. In our case -- it was an occasional disaster during the three week period. I've always tended to be a night person and getting up in the morning is pretty much mechanical and robotics like.

Well, it was on a typical morning that I rose and lead the dogs outside to the dog run and closed the gate behind them and left them to do the obvious. It wasn't until I returned a few moments latter that I was rudely awaken by the fact that Addie was STILL warring her briefs and yes she had done what her "mother" had sent her outside to do!

The second time I did this, I realized what I did only a brief moment later and ran back outside to rectify the problem -- but, alas, I was too late.

But as I said, it was April Fool's Day night, that I realized I wasn't going to make the award.

It all started when I was awaken by the neighbor's in the upstairs apartment just before midnight. Then, hearing Addie panting in her create (it had been 82o in Bagdad By The Bay earlier in the day), I thought I would be a "nice mother" and get up and get Addie a drink of water. Upon returning from the kitchen with a large container of water, I opened the create and offered her some. Her big brown eyes told me she was indeed grateful but could I please come back with a flatter type dish so she wouldn't have to raise her head to drink -- being in the "reclining on the side" position. I, a bit perturbed at my Goldie's laid back disposition after I had made the jester to get the water, proceeded to push the water into the create -- it caught the lip and water spilled all over poor Addie. There she was -- FLOATING on her side in a great pool of water. She didn't seem to mind, but I started to imagine the scene the next morning and what it would be like to pull this sopping wet dog from her create.

Illusions are always bigger in the middle of the night. So I pulled her out and sent her outside while I cleaned up. It wasn't as bad as it seemed -- I had just left the heavy cardboard in the create underneath the peg board for -- what I am sure -- was some very good reason.

What good and proper "mother" would almost drown her baby in her crib or send her outside to do "her thing" without first teaching her to pull her panties down? So, I'm confessing these neglectful and inept acts as a mother because I suspect that the fine group of people who decide who gets these awards probably delve and pry into the recipient's personal life pretty extensively and would sooner or later discover the truth. They do give this award don't they?