Mike went away for a few days, for a football game, but Heather stayed home because of work deadlines. I went to her office a few times, as I usually do, but not much was going on there. Sheila was the only other dog around, and I’m always more excited to see her than she is to see me. I hung out next to Heather’s desk and went to several meetings, all of them without incident, and attended a retirement party that yielded a few tears and a lot of pizza boxes but no extra toppings hitting the floor.
But one of the days, Heather had to go to Vancouver (the one in British Columbia, that is) for a meeting, and I had to stay home. Fearing I would be left alone too long (and with terrorists on the loose in Canada!), Heather called in the troops. Our neighbor Jane, owner of the late, great Gracie, came over to walk me in the morning. Jane will soon be getting a female Basset hound puppy, so I guess she felt she needed some dog-walking practice to get back in the swing of it. Jane kept telling me to hurry up, but I stubbornly refused to pee for her. She still has a thing or two to learn about command tone, I’m afraid. Later, though, I felt bad about exposing her to failure. I hope she didn’t take it personally. She’s a nice lady.
Later that afternoon my best friend Lynn came over to stay with me for a few hours, take a walk with me and make my dinner, and I was relieved when she arrived. Not only was I happy to see her, but it alleviated my concern that if Jane had returned for a longer walk and my feeding, she wouldn’t know the correct ingredients for my dinner and I wouldn’t get enough. Lynn knows, however. Lynn knows everything. Unfortunately, sometimes Lynn knows me too well, and she can easily tell when I’m trying to con her. If I park myself in the kitchen or in front of the downstairs TV to silently scream that I’m ready for a reward (come on, Mike does it!), I never wring more than a tug toy or an affectionate ear rub out of Lynn. She speaks softly, but she’s tough.
One fun afternoon with Lynn wasn’t worth all that time without Mike, though. After all, I lost a lot of nap time by going to work with Heather, between the long commute in Heather’s car and sitting awake all day in my blue-chair guardhouse, defending her desk . Managing her office is challenging, and then at the end of the day the two of us had to head home to an empty house. Worse yet, every night the harried Heather picked up takeout food on our drive home, and then I had to sit on the front seat, tortured by those unreachable aromas the rest of the way home. All I got out of it was a little extra broth on my food and an empty container to lick out later. Big whoop.
It was kind of sad around here with Mike gone. He can be a major pain in the ass, of course, but I was glad to have him home.