The Smile Maker

This is Mama Pajama, of Mama Pajama Tells A Story fame. I am but her humble servant, so I do not dare attempt to speak for her. She is amazingly capable of speaking for herself. This talent literally saved her life four and a half years ago. So many of my dear readers know Mama Pajama's story so well that I hate to abuse them by re-telling it here. But if you don't know it, and if you love miracles, you can read it here: http://www.dogwalkers.net/twoyrsago.htm . It is just a page on my website, no spam or spyware or evilness, no ads or anything for sale, and it tells the brief story of this amazing little dog.

Mama Pajama is one of those souls who makes everyone she meets feel special. I had a customer call me yesterday, who knows Mama Pajama only through the book and the Internet. But this wonderful customer just NAILED everything about this awe-inspiring sweetheart when she said, "Mama Pajama is a smile maker."

Her disease is in remission enough that I had slowly been weaning down the steroids. I got her down to 2 mg a day and I was excited about the prospect that maybe, just maybe she could stop them altogether. But late last week I saw a new sore starting on her back and that was that. She's back on her regular dose, and there she'll stay, I suppose.

She's had a fun time this week. Because of the Stupid City Squirrels, I've been driving some of the dogs out to the kennel club property to run. Now Mama Pajama and her brother Fat Charlie are ten years old but I took them for some fun. Mama Pajama was grinning from ear to ear. Her Very Good Human Friends Lee and Dee were there and she wagged and smiled and high-fived them a great good morning greeting. The young 'uns went in the fenced area and chased the skunker:

Mama Pajama sat with Miss Lee on her golf cart making smiles all over the place, pretending not to be the least bit interested in the ginormous stinker toy. I put the young 'uns up to catch their breath, and let Fat Charlie have a turn. Mama Pajama jumped down from her golf cart perch to give her brother a happy hump which she loves to do, only to her best beloved Fat Charlie bro. Still no interest in the squawking squeaking skunker, not one bit. Then Fat Charlie needed a breather, so he went back to the van for a little rest up.

Mama Pajama allowed as how she just might enjoy a little look-see in the fenced area where the others had been running and playing, just to see if there was something squishy to roll in or to see if there was any poop to eat. I opened the gate for her and she couldn't stand it any more. She zoomed over to that squawkin' furry skunktoy and bit it up and shook the beejesus out of it and squawked it to death and back. She wagged and spun and jumped and acted just like a young 'un and finally looked up and smiled a mountain full of joy my way.

Mama Pajama. Smile maker. My hero.