Canine Karma

Motivated by the thought of the girls spending another night with my parents while their father went out and their mother was on vacation as well as the sounds of Chienne giving high-pitched yips of pure distress as I loaded my bag in the car, I went back in the house and grabbed her leash.

“Are you ready?” I asked and her ears perked happily at the familiar phrase. Amidst questions and warnings from my parents, I firmly stated that I was taking my dog. “I’m coming home next weekend – it’s only for a week. And I can come home at lunch and walk her. And I miss her and she’s mine and I’m taking her with me.”

We had an uneventful trip north. Chienne’s always been good at traveling and she slept in the backseat for most of the trip, venturing up front to stick her head out a window I obligingly opened when we slowed for construction zones.

“We made it,” I said to Dad after he answered his phone. “We took the bags up and came back down to wander around a little bit. She’s peeing on everything to announce her presence to the other puppies.” I listened while he said he was worried about how she’d do during the day.

“This way, girl,” I called and replied that I thought a break would be good for everyone. I’m much more affectionate with my pretty dog than either of my parents and I think she misses me. We’re very bonded – perhaps me a bit more than her, but still. I'm getting lonely and haven't been walking in the mornings and think it'll be good for her to spend a week with me. So I felt good, if slightly selfish, about my decision. My parents can focus on the girls, I can have some company for a week, and then it’s just two more weeks until I move into my house and all normalizes again!

“Almost there,” I said as we made a left on a street mere blocks from where I sleep. She began to whimper and my stomach suddenly clenched as my heart began to ache. I thought of depressing the button on the remote that still clings to my visor and watching the garage door open invitingly. Of the dog door that opened into the fenced yard. Of the beds under which Sprout could hide and on which Chienne could nap. I blinked back tears when I thought of Friend and when Chienne might see her next. I’m currently eager to make my trip south, giving me a lovely opportunity to spend some time with Friend before I supervise the loading of my belongings into a moving truck.

“We’re good,” I told Mom after she got her turn on the phone, though I remained a bit sad as I wandered around the building. We rounded a corner and I tugged the leash to move my hound to one side of the building to avoid the people sitting outside. But the woman in the parking lot continued toward her, asking quietly if she could say hello. I nodded, continuing to talk to Mom, and paused to offer Chienne’s name when she asked.

“Chienne made a friend,” I told Mom, smiling as I watched the woman sit on the pavement to cuddle. I love dog people, I thought. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, OK?” I said as I turned to greet Kim and her husband as she continued to coo at Chienne. We talked for a few moments, my dog basking in the attention and offering kisses to Kim’s chin, and Jim asked why he hadn’t seen me walking her before.

I explained that she’d been living at my parents’ house while I worked all day. But we were taking a week to spend together here in the hotel.

“So she’ll be here alone all day?” Kim asked and I shook my head.

“I’m going to try to leave work at noon every day. That’ll give me about 20 minutes to spend with her before I have to head back for the afternoon. So it’s not ideal, but we’ll make it work for this week.”

“I have a lab at home,” Kim said and I nodded. “I miss her so much when I come stay with Jim, but she doesn’t like riding in the car.”

“I missed Chienne too,” I said, cocking my head with sympathy.

“I could walk her during the day,” Kim offered hesitantly and I brightened.

“Really?” I said, thinking of work I could get done and worries I could release if someone looked in on my puppy. “You don’t mind? I could pay you!” Assured that she’d love to do it and didn’t want money, I went back to my room to fetch an extra key, a check for $50 and a business card with my numbers on it. We returned to her room, she wrote down her numbers and kissed Chienne on the head before we waved goodnight.

While I suppose I could worry a little over giving my key to a woman I just met in the parking lot of an iffy hotel, I’m really not. As Chienne and I walked up the steps and entered our room, I smiled and remembered Simon.

“Do good things and good things happen to you,” I said and kissed Chienne’s head before unclipping her leash. “And we’re obviously very good girls.”