Kickass and root canal

Kickass, the doorstop dog, is no help to the keeper as he attempts to structure a proper attitude for two eminent root canal procedures scheduled for later this morning.

In sorting through the feelings of anticipation available on the open thought market, the keeper has gone through the list and discarded: bravery, won’t-be-that-bad, and it-won’t -take-that-long, in favor of subdued whimpering, they-are-going-to-hurt-me, and is-there-any-way-out!

If it were not an insult to them, the keeper might compare his circumstance to that of pregnant women who are destined to endure pain but seem to do so with alacrity. They, of course, are rewarded with a lifetime of joys and tribulations in the form of a daughter or son.

Maybe that is where the keeper should go with his self-pitying excess: he may be in for some unpleasantness but it will be short lived and he won’t come away with the lifetime burden of a new mother.

He will talk it over with Phyllis who has experienced both childbirth and root canal procedures. Maybe she will say “Poor baby” as the keeper heads out the door for the dental surgeon. That would make him feel better. Not a lot, but some.