Beware the "Stitch-Ripper", Keeva

I had my surgical follow-up visit with my doc, who gave me the all-clear for travel. I can make my flight arrangements to go home for my Mom's services. Everything's fine and he just told me to take it easy, not push myself too hard, and protect my incisions until they're completely healed. He was also quite impressed that I've lost 58 pounds since September (12 of which have been lost since this whole gall bladder episode started). Delighted, I left the doctor's office and made my way to the store to see how much "catch-up" I had to do with all the work I missed.

When I got there, Wes's little Keeva pup, who is the official House of Tiki "shop dog", greeted me with excitement. Whining with fervor and with her tail wagging like the wings of a hummingbird, I couldn't resist the temptation to scoop her sweet little puppy self into my arms. With Caris and Wes there sternly warning me NOT to pick her up, I crouched down to collect my kisses and licks. She was having none of that and jumped up into my embrace while I giggled. There is nothing more soothing to the soul and healing to the body than puppy lovies. I guess Caris and Wes's warnings may have fallen on deaf ears, because I found myself lifting her off the ground while she licked my face and continued to let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she missed her Auntie Pua. Suddenly, her back paws made contact with my tummy and I felt something "pop". I looked down and saw a lovely red stain forming on my blouse, and squeeked out a meager "uh-oh".

I put Keeva down, looked down my shirt, and saw that her little paw had pulled one of my stitches. I quickly put my hand over the bloodstain to hide it from Caris and Wes, but Caris saw it right away. All my 21 years of mothering her came right back in my face.

Caris: What did I say? Did I say "Mommy, don't pick Keeva up?" Did I say that to you?

Pua: (sheepishly) Yes. But she's so cute. I couldn't resist.

Caris: Now look what happened? See what happened? Geez. Stubborn woman. (motioning me to the back of the shop) Well, come on. Let's go get that fixed.

Pua: (following obediently) Ok.

While Wes and Caris, in a flurry of activity, futzed around with the First Aid kit, recommending Neosporin and butterfly bandages, Keeva looked up at me from down at my feet with her big, dark, puppy dog eyes full of love. "Don't worry Sweetie, I'm fine." Once I got all fixed up by the House of Tiki "medics", I sat down on the floor and gave her a cuddle while Caris admonished me, eyes rolling. "Do you not learn?"

I guess Jess and Marc's Bernice and I have yet, one more thing in common. Although I didn't pull out my own stitches, Caris thinks it's all the same, and I'm in the doghouse as far as she's concerned.

Still, the Keeva kisses were worth it. Please don't tell Caris I said that.