I would call this story a Charlie Brown moment.
An embarrassing, this is not happening to me in front of all these people, kind of moment.
There we were, my daughter and I, in the lobby of the
We had returned from a most fabulous weekend, a most memorable weekend, with my parents and family. A rare opportunity for the family to jet set to southern climes and return home in a record two nights. But celebrating the 50 years of marriage of two people we love tremendously calls for such adventure.
We arrived at the "resort" at our appointed time slot on a Sunday; a one-hour window in which to check out our canine before being charged another night. We found ourselves in a line with other owners anxious to see their "babies" again.
We smiled in anticipation as leashed dogs were brought through The Door, tails wagging and tongues licking as they made a beeline to their people. (The Door = the only portal connecting the lobby from the elusive but noisy back rooms where the dogs are kept.)
It was fun to see what kind of four legged creature would emerge next for a happy reunion with its owner.
Then came our turn.
Payment made.
Personal effects handed over.
Retreat behind The Door.
(A moment now to imagine our happy hound's reaction to seeing us in the lobby. I guessed it would be similar to the Kermit and Miss Piggy scene in the original Muppet Movie, where they run through flowered fields for an embrace.)
The Door opens.
Charlie bounds through, and then scampers right past us to investigate the others in the lobby awaiting their turn.
Really?
I think I may have turned red with embarrassment. I gave my daughter at look.
Charlie, we missed you, did you miss us? Huh boy? Huh?
Even my enthusiastic baby talk did nothing to turn his attention back to us, his own people.No wagging at our feet, no jumping up on our legs.
Not exactly the reunion I was anticipating.
Flat out apathy from man's best friend.
A time when I can look back and say without a doubt,
Yup, I was dissed by my dog.
Good grief!
LJ
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