The Talk, Part II

Many of you might have read my high school essay assignment written in second person called The Talk, which was one of my very first blog posts (May of 2013). 

A short summary of The Talk: in third grade, my dog, Oreo, chewed up my hearing aids. My parents were disappointed and told me to take better care of the hearing aids. I loathed the hearing aids and did not care that the dog chewed them up, but was still upset that my parents were disappointed in me anyway.

There were a couple of lessons I learned that summer evening - 1) just because you absolutely loathed something does not mean you can let the dog eat it, 2) hearing aids are very expensive equipments and needed to be treated as such, 3) under no circumstances, put the hearing aids where the dog can get it!

We pick up the story ten years later:

The Talk, Part II

You took lessons learned from “The Talk” to heart. You never left the hearing aids unattended where they could get lost and whenever you did lose your hearing aids, they were usually in someplace that was really obvious and secure, but would be the last place you would ever look for them!

Sadly, Oreo died a little over a year ago. He was a good dog who never lost his taste for earwax as evidenced by how he loved to lick Dad’s ears.

You welcomed a new member to your family last summer. His name is Orion and he’s smaller and blacker than Oreo, but still just as sweet.  And mischievous. He likes earwax but not nearly as much as he likes feet. Honestly, socks and shoes are in more danger than any hearing aids. He’s ten months old and you have not have a single incidence where he even sniffed at the hearing aids.

Until last night…

You took your hearing aids off for the day and placed them on your bedside table, in your official hearing aid plate, also known as a spoon holder.  This is supposed to be a relatively safe place as Orion had shown no interest in sniffing around there though he does join you each night on the bed. You joined your family in the living room for a Sherlock marathon. Everyone's relaxed. Dad drifted off to sleep in his chair, Mom knitted a belated Christmas present, Orion napped on the little comfy chair Mom made for Oreo.

Orion got up from his comfy seat and wandered off for a bit. When he returned after a few minutes, you thought he had a bone. Good for him you thought. Wait … that tiny little bone is a little too shiny to be a rawhide … noooooo!

You dove for Orion as if he had chocolate in his mouth. He stopped chewing, but it took some force to get his jaw to release the hearing aid. You freed the lone hearing aid and hastily turned it on. You waited — one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, do do do doooo do do do doooo, wah. The hearing aid squealed a bit and started broadcasting the air as they always do before your ears get use to it.

You let out a sigh of relief … until Mom asked where was the other hearing aids. Your heart jumped back up to pounding level. You ran for your bedroom while praying the dog did not have enough time or interest to swallow the other hearing aids.

You reach the bedside table and looked where the hearing aids were supposed to be … and you see the other hearing aid resting innocently there. You let out another sigh of relief and sagged on the bed as the rest of the heart pounding tension left your body.

Both hearing aids were safe. You put them on a shelf that was four feet high, well above the reach of Orion. When you finally went to bed that night, Orion joined you and snuggled into your side as if he never tasted a hearing aid in his life. You mentally repeated the last lesson you learned from The Talk while an Elvis Presley song went on in your head:

You look like an angel

Walk like an angel

Talk like an angel

But I got wiiiiiise

You’re the devil in disguise!

(You’re the) Devil in Disguise by Elvis Presley