Guest Blog from a Five year old Golden Retriever.
If I lie here, outside the bedroom door and whine just a bit louder he’ll have to get up. I have figured out after five years that he doesn’t want me to bark to wake him. Just one more throaty sigh should do it. We have a routine him and I. Lets go John, it’s time to get up and take me out.
We live behind the front desk of a motel in Cape May. I hear him say that my title is ambassador. Lots of people seem to know my name although I really only see them once a year. The good ones bring me treats like the letter carrier, when she brings the mail. I have her trained to stop once a day and slide a treat across the counter. She is very consistent. I have no idea why any of my kind would ever threaten a letter carrier.
Back to our routine, John has come out of the bedroom and is making that smelly dark liquid with smoke coming off it. He does this everyday, I would never drink something so smelly, and I’m a dog. After he makes the hot liquid, he has to visit the animals in the basement.
Two creatures called Grace and Tabitha, who spend the night in the basement, wandering around bumping into things, rubbing their bodies against whatever gets in their way. They apparently like it down there. They must think I’d harass them all night because they’re cats. Whatever!
Once John gets done taking care of the cats, he pours the hot liquid stuff in to a silver looking cup with a lid and grabs my leash, (it took him long enough.) He clips one end to the thing around my neck, and I take him outside. If it’s a good day he lets me hop in the back seat of his car and drives me over to a place called Higbee beach, where he unhooks himself from me. I let him walk alone, while I run like crazy.
Lately, he thinks I’ll eat all the smelly, dead fish washed up on the beach, so he stays attached to me. He thinks one of the large boats on the bay broke a net and spilled part of the catch. Seagulls won’t even eat them. Today, we walked not far from where we live. That’s okay, because all the other humans drop all kinds of tasty morsels and I don’t mind picking them up and eating. I have a reputation for finding pizza crust in any bush from a block away.
Apparently, I’m some sort of celebrity in Cape May. People know my name around town and at the Victorian Motel where I live. I’m even on Facebook. And wait now I’m told I am making appearances in a cartoon series with some bird!! But I’m a dog.