It’s my momma again. She doesn’t like that I refer to my friend as “The Dawg.”
But he likes it. So, what’s a girl to do?
A girl? Did I actually write “a girl”? I’m 58! Why do I even care who likes what and who doesn’t?
This reminds me of the poem that goes something like this: “When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple with a red hat that doesn’t match.” I don’t know the whole thing but the idea is that, as we get older, we learn to do what we want to do, enjoy life and not worry about what other people think.
But, in this case, these “other people” are my mom and my special friend, i.e. The Dawg.
Calling him The Dawg is not a derogatory thing. He’s proud of the label because he is a Georgia Bulldog fanatic. I mean he is hooked on the Georgia Bulldogs. When we play trivia in restaurants, he sometimes goes by “SCdawg,” a reference to being a Bulldog fan but a South Carolina resident.
I guess I could call him something else, but I’m not sure what. I’m certain I’d hear from Mom if I started referring to him as “Sexy Hunk.” Actually, I’d probably hear from him as well!
Perhaps I should call him “The Brave,” because he’s such a zealot about the Atlanta Braves. He knows more about baseball than any human being I’ve ever been around. He played baseball for the Air Force in Europe many years ago. But it’s the history, the statistics, the details that he knows. He knows who won what award when, who was the runner-up; you name it about baseball and he knows it. He tells me what hometowns players are from, how tall they are, where they used to play, etc. And it doesn’t matter what decade we’re talking about; he knows ‘em all!
Possibly I should call him “The Reader.” He has read all of the classics, among other things. Just last night he was telling me about the early years of Charles Dickens and about Dickens’ employment as a young man. Sometimes he talks about Homer or Edgar Allan Poe.
Then again maybe his moniker could be “The Bird.” He trains pigeons for racing.
There are lots of possibilities. I’ll just wait to hear from Mom or The Dawg.
Oops! I said it again. Sorry, Mom.

Late Note: We finally made the ultimate commitment, so now I could call him "hubby" but I'm sticking with The Dawg!

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