No, kids, no, he cannot. At least he shouldn’t. And by “he” I mean “me,” and by “play” I mean “work,” and sometimes, I should just stay home. 

I’m sure it’ll come as no surprise to some of you that Johnny (I mean me) has issues. We don’t have the space to go into all of them here, but suffice it to say that I’m a bit of a workaholic. You know, one who lives by that age-old question: do I work to live, or live to work? Sadly (happily?) it’s a little bit of both since I love my job—most of the time—and have bills to pay, all of the time.

That creates a conundrum once in a while, because although I’ve not felt one hundred percent for weeks, I’m also not great at not showing up, and never in the mood to simply phone it in. Yes, I’ve been to see Dr. Manbun. In fact, I’m quite sure that’s where I originally contracted what little Johnny would call the “creeping crud,” which true to form, just keeps on creeping. And yes, I’ve got it all: watery eyes, a hacking cough, bit of a fever, sneezing, sneezing, sneezing, groan-worthy back pain and—well, you get the idea. I have the flu.

I spent hours waffling. Questions echoed in my aching head. Should I attend the 47th annual 98.3 WSUL Heart-A-Thon and risk infecting the dedicated folks who show up in droves to pledge dollars and donate blood? Could I support the vendors of the Jeff Bank health fair from under the covers at Camp Fox? 

Aside from those issues, I had selfish motives for making an appearance as well, because That Dog Named Gidget is in a freakin’ popularity contest. She’s made it to the quarterfinals and I wanted to beg (I mean ask nicely) for people to support me (I mean her) in becoming the next cover girl for Modern Dog Magazine. I figured I’d have a captive audience, since one has to lie still while giving blood, and I know how difficult it is to say no to my adorable dog. So off we went, keeping my distance, mask in place, tissues at the ready.

Once again, the powers that be at Resorts World Catskills opened their hearts and doors to host the event, and as usual, the joint was jumpin’. I had Gidge in her stroller (don’t judge) which put space between germy me and the general public, and warned everyone to “stay far away from me” while simultaneously telling anyone who would listen about the contest, all under the guise of covering the Heart-A-Thon for the River Reporter. Aren’t I sly?

As I asked folks to stop and smile for the camera, I explained that Gidget was in the running to become “America’s Favorite Pet” and that the contest raises money for the Progressive Animal Welfare Society (PAWS) to aid in its mission to “help cats, dogs and wild animals thrive in happy, healthy homes or in their natural habitats. Since 1967,” I told anyone who would listen, that “PAWS has unified more than 130,000 cats and dogs with loving families, nurtured more than 140,000 sick, injured and orphaned wildlife, and made the world a better place for countless critters.”

“Not only that,” I further explained, but “it doesn’t cost a dime to vote for my dog, because everyone gets one free vote per day so it’s a win/win, right?”  

Of course if one wishes to make a monetary donation, one can, and that’s how PAWS raises much-need funds to help critters in need.

Was it the right thing to do? I mean showing up when I should have stayed in bed? Was it smart to risk spreading what little Johnny would call “cooties” to you and yours? Probably not, but I did come with a warning, and it was for a good cause—two of them in fact, in my humble opinion. Was it selfish? Absolutely. Did the Heart-A-Thon succeed in its mission to “raise funds to help with prevention, education and treatment of heart disease in Sullivan County?” At last count, the event brought in over $80,000 and my “captive audience” donated more than 50 pints of blood, while rolling their eyes at me and my selfish requests to vote for my dog.

What’s that? You want to do both? No problem! You can still donate to the Heart-A-Thon by visiting www.boldgoldnewyork.com/heartathon and if you’d like to see That Dog Named Gidget on the cover of Modern Dog Magazine, support PAWS, and see us take home a nice cash prize, there’s still time. She’s slipped into fourth place at press time, but we have until the clock strikes midnight on February 27 for you to help her climb back into first by visiting www.americasfavpet.com/2025/gidget-c86f.

Will I survive the creeping crud? Dr. Manbun seems to think so, but suggests that I remain home for another few days. Just vote for my dog and I’ll stay out of your way. Think of it as a promise, not a threat. You’re welcome.

Ask the Google: what on Earth is the “creeping crud”? 

A new-to-me online source called  www.onelook.com has this to say: “Doctors may call it a viral upper respiratory illness, but to you it’s the crud—that bad-news combination of sore throat, runny nose and cough that typically comes on in winter and hangs on until spring.” So, another 20-odd days then? Great.