frankly, my dear

I have a new buddy. She came home with me for a short visit last week. She quickly found the water bowl waiting for her, likewise the bowl of cat treats (oh, yum-m-m-mee it’s dairy flavor!!) and then was quite happy to accompany me out back, where she surveyed the yard and decided on a likely spot needing fertilization, then came and stood quietly at the door until I opened it.

Once inside, she took up a position in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. A short time later, she got up and strolled to the back door, looking over her shoulder at me. I let her out, but this time I stayed inside and watched as she wandered happily. She finished her appointed rounds, came back to the door, did not bark, did not scratch, simply touched the door with her front paw one time, and waited for me to open up. Ah, that was rewarding but exhausting!! She ambled over, let Jim pat her head and call her “Baby” then sprawled on the throw rug next to the front door and took a nap. Sometime later I went into the kitchen to make cole slaw and, as she claimed a spot in the middle of the floor, realized just how tiny my kitchen really is. Oh, did you want to step here? Too bad for you!!

Three hours later, as we were getting back in the car to take her home, she tried to jump up onto the back seat and didn’t quite make it, scrabbling but failing to find purchase on the too slick upholstery. And so she simply sat, half in, half out, catching her breath, so to speak, until I gently spoke to her and with a soft tug on the leash, got up, turned around, and then decided she could comfortably make it one step up to the floorboard. Which is when I discovered just how tiny my car really is. But once she was completely in, then she took the next step, up, and onto the bench seat.

Never once during our trip here or there did she try to get into the front, but seemed quite content to sit and survey the world as it passed by. The size of the back seat is canine friendly, well, at least for her size, as she could rest her chin on the back shelf, just this side of the brake light, and by simply turning her head could see out through all the windows. Alternating between snoozing and looking around, the trips were uneventful.

But once we got to her house, and I opened the car door, she froze. You could see it in her eyes, as her deductive reasoning kicked in: “oh, yes, this is where I had the problem 30 minutes ago, and now I’m not sure what to do.” I didn’t push, wanting to let her make the decision, but there was the lure of an offered treat, and so she got up her courage and with one bound she was out of the car and on the sidewalk.

At the stoop, she pressed her nose to the door, but when it didn’t open immediately, looked at me as if to say, "And just WHAT are you waiting for?" The homeowner answered our knock, and we were inside, Baby going straight to “her kitchen” floor, where she sprawled comfortably, accepting two last treats from me before my departure.

Back home, Jim and I talked. I don’t know if she’ll ever come home with me again, but it doesn’t matter, our lives have been forever changed. And we’re in love with Scarlett.