I think I wrote about Mother’s Day already

Mother’s Day is tomorrow so I should probably be writing a column about it.

But I think I covered it already.

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a column about representing. It started with a story about a woman trying to steal my table in a restaurant while wearing a shirt bearing her company’s logo.

It ended with the realization that we’re all just representing our mamas anyway.

And at the time, I had another realization: I’d just written my Mother’s Day column two weeks early.

Of course, I should have saved it for today and written another one instead, but as usual it was Friday evening and I was on deadline and out of time.

Early the next morning, my former Little League coach sent me an email to say he’d taken the fish off his car several years ago because he didn’t want Jesus’ image to be tarnished by his own aggressive driving.

And I heard that a pastor even mentioned my column in his sermon. That’s got to be a first.

He told the congregation that, based on my past writings, I seemed like a “good Christian,” to which the grandmother of a boy on my son’s baseball team said, “It all depends on whether we’re winning or not.”

Very funny.

I tell you something that’s not very funny: My dog was on dialysis this week.

I’m not kidding.

The last time something this bad happened was when my dog got bitten by a rattlesnake.

I remember the night well because it was 2013 and the Braves were in maybe their last playoff game ever. One minute I’m watching the Braves again snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and the next minute I’m standing in the pet urgent care clinic with Bess trying to decide how much money we’re willing to spend to save the life of our dog Dexter.

As you may recall, but probably not, we opted for some basic care and overnight observation but not for the anti-venom, which would have cost roughly the same as two semesters in a freshman dorm at the University of Georgia.

Dexter lived, and our daughter was able to go to college.

Anyway, Dexter recently resumed his adventures with reptiles. Late last week, he ate a lizard and started throwing up.

We took care of him, cleaned up after him, and fed him chicken and rice instead of his usual crunchy food. When that didn’t help, we closely monitored him, cleaned up after him some more and then took him to the vet, where we waited patiently for Dexter to get bloodwork, x-rays and urinalysis.

By “we,” of course I mean Bess. She’s the one who realized Dexter was sick in the first place and the one who, as it turned out, saved his life by taking him to the vet, who diagnosed Dexter with kidney failure, probably from lizard toxins.

Dexter has finished dialysis and is recuperating at home. He’s wearing a cone around his neck to keep him from tearing the bandage off his leg, where he had an IV.

Bess probably likes Dexter the least of us, because she’s the one who gets stuck with walking him and feeding him, something the rest of us quite often forget to do, and now with making sure the cone stays around his neck.

Which reminds me of my own mother, who once fed our cat Snowball’s newborn kittens with an eyedropper after my brother and I touched the kittens and Snowball refused to feed them.

Or the time my mother saved a baby turkey after my little sister gave it a bath and then attempted to dry it with a blow dryer so big it was named “The Boss.”

What we were doing with a baby turkey I have no idea.

But it’s a good thing Mom was there.

Hey, this was about Mother’s Day after all. Have a happy one, all you moms. You deserve it.

This story was originally published May 6, 2016 at 8:34 PM with the headline "I think I wrote about Mother’s Day already."