This weekend we had another visit from Uncle Johnny. Not sure why he chooses to subject himself to this so frequently, but he has been coming down quite often lately. I'm pretty sure its not because he likes the dogs.
I think he most enjoys
the company of my niece, for which reason he willingly, at the age of
86, accompanies all of us even on ill-conceived trips to the beach on a
day of 43-degree freezing rain.
On which Ursula is
shivering, Fozzie is beside himself with rage at Genghis, Kirsten is
redirecting pent-up frustration with the dogs toward Florian, and Johnny
himself is having what my mom used to call a conniption fit about my
sister's failure to bring mittens for her daughter. Fun times for the
notwithstanding, we did manage to have fun in our own way and Florian
was cheered by having Fozzie sit on his lap the whole way back. We are
realizing more and more what an anxious fellow Fozzie is. I thought that
with his own back seat and window to look out of, he would be calmer in
the car than he used to be in my old van. But with windows closed, all
he does is sit in the back seat and look worried, hang his head into the
front looking for someone to kiss, and try to climb up to sit on
Florian is quick to indulge, but it does make us wonder: what happened to him? Was it his period of being a stray, uncertain of where his next meal was coming from and dodging cars and dog catchers, that made him so anxious? Was it the long period of uncertainty of his future in my house, in which he picked up signals from me that fueled his insecurity? Poor Fozzie.
I guess the good thing is that Fozzie's particular brand of insecurity makes him seek out affection and contact, which my Swiss counterpart and I are more than happy to provide. But it would be wonderful if he could learn to feel more secure, while maintaining his extremely affectionate nature.
Once home, we went over to my sister's house to make sure she'd survived the trip home and the rest of the afternoon with Johnny.
Star demonstrated her other setting besides manically-in-your-face-and-zooming-around-while-chewing-on-everything-in-sight-and-making-the-most-trouble-you-have-ever-imagined, which is