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Watching hockey with a four-legged friend

Hockey game interrupts pet’s nap
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I watched the Canada/US women’s Olympic gold medal hockey game with Marble, who is a dog, but thinks he is a human, curled up on the couch beside me.

Marble is not really a hockey fan.

However, he is not averse to lying as close to me as humanly possible if I happen to be stretched out in a prone position anywhere at any time.

And so it was that we found ourselves on the couch in front of the television. It was late, far past my usual bedtime, and Marble’s bedtime, too, but we were pumped. The Canadian women’s hockey team had a chance for a gold medal. With four gold medals to their credit, it seemed highly likely they would do it again.

My husband and I were anxious to watch the game, to cheer our team to victory and to marvel about patriotic pride and how lucky we were to be Canadians even though it is winter and cold and actually quite horrible to be living in this country right now.

However, Marble, the dog was, in no way, shape or form, pumped.

He did, however, not want to miss the opportunity of making it very difficult for me to see the television over his scraggy doggy head.

“Go, Canada, go,” I yelled as I tossed Marble some popcorn out of my bowl, which he ate daintily without removing himself from the couch.

The US scored first, leaving me feeling slightly uncomfortable, but, during the Coaches Corner, Don Cherry assured me and all the other viewers who were tuned in to the game that Canada would recover.

I felt better. Don Cherry knows about stuff like that.

And true to form, Canada did come back. It seemed, in the second period, that beautiful gold medal would be safe where it belonged.

On Canadian soil!

But, in front of my disbelieving eyes the US ladies hockey team totally began to dominate the ice. And with only six minutes left in regulation time they did the unthinkable, they tied the game.

At this point, I shifted my position on the couch and squished the dog’s head down so I could see the game better.

Marble fixed his liquid brown eyes on me in a disapproving stare, but I ignored him.

And then the US got a penalty and Canada had a power play.

“Now,” I thought. “Now, we will score and all will be good once again.”

Canada, however, did not score and, finally, the game went to a shootout.

And before we knew it, the Americans were yelling and hugging and carrying on and the Canadians were stiff and still, like unwilling participants in a game of frozen tag.

United States had won the gold. Canada took silver.

For myself, a humble fan, I would think that winning silver wouldn’t be such a terrible thing. After all, these women had made it to the Olympics, pursuing a dream that few people wouldn’t even dare dream about.

But, after four years of reaching for this ever-illusive shining gold star of brightness, accepting the fact that, for at least this one moment in time, that star is beyond your reach must evoke emotions humble fans such as myself can only imagine.

But, in my mind at least, these young Canadian women who played their hearts out there on the ice at the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics, were winners in every sense of the word.

And I’m so grateful to have had the chance to curl up with a dog named Marble on a cold night in February and watch these young athletes represent our country.

“It’s so good to be a Canadian, eh.”