Jaci Dawn

The move at work is going along. I really cannot even talk about it now. I need to focus on happy events and less- stressful thoughts. I’m not certain I would call it “Be Positive”, but since I know I am not really avoiding the thought of everything that is happening (believe me, my brain will wake me up at 3:00AM, racing with thoughts of what needs to be done or what might possibly happen in the future), I cannot call this avoidance.

I’m thinking Happy Thoughts.

OK, maybe not. But admit it, it was a nice try.

So. (My oldest begins every story with that word: “So.”)

So. It’s Saturday. Don is off snow-shoeing but I do not feel up to it. I have a dozen physical pains and aches and the thought of trying to snow-shoe left me in a puddle of anxiety. So he went with Murphy and promised to call me when he came back down off the mountain. He’s a good man, Don.

The day warmed up early and Harvey had Spring Fever. I debated taking him up to the dog park again, but I had too many errands to run (including the new one that Don left on a note by the microwave: dog food). Great: one more stop.

But I was feeling OK physically, so I hooked the leash on to Harvey’s collar. He outdid any dance a littler dog might do: he gets positively ecstatic at the thought of a walk and dances in circles, barks, wags his tail and tugs on the lead. I packed the little plastic poop bags, my ID, the house keys, and some tissue. We exited the yard and he stopped at the car.

Harvey hates to ride in the car. He must remember the dog park.

It didn’t take much to coax him past the car, in fact I had to discipline him a few times before we reached the first stop sign, but after that he was a perfect gentleman on the leash. And when we returned home, he again stopped by the car, hopeful.

So I put him in the back seat.

And I took him shopping with me. He had to sit in the car while I got groceries, but he only barked when I left him and when I returned to load groceries. He was a hit at the gas station: the young woman pumping gas tried to feed him a biscuit. His mind was on escaping, but I promised we’d save the biscuit for later. I think she just liked him because he’s not territorial about the car like some dogs are.

He’s not territorial about anything.

My second stop was Wilco Farm Store for the dog food. I remembered, as I pulled into the parking lot, that dogs are allowed in the store on their leash. I know, I am so brilliant. It boggles my mind, too.

So I took Harvey in to the store (allowing the tiny toy poodle to go first).

Instant hit. Harvey has been inside Home Depot, but not inside Wilco, and not during Spring chick sale. He was overcome by the odors: baby birds, dog treats, dog food, former and present dogs. He didn’t tug at his leash, but he was definitely engaged.

The Nutro sales people were in force in the aisles. This was good because we buy Nutro brand dog food. And if the salesman was completely smitten by my dog, it could only mean he would bend over backward to help me out. I got the bag of dog food loaded onto the cart for me, a coupon for $2 off, extra help at the check-out counter, and someone to load the dog food into my car.

And Harvey had his ears scratched and his praises lauded. Everyone loved that he was a rescue dog from the dog pound.

Good boy, Harvey!

He had to wait for me at the next store and he barked when I left him and when he saw me coming back, much to the amusement of other shoppers in the parking lot. His big old tail waved like a flag.

I could get used to this dog ownership stuff. Harvey is much more useful in a parking lot than a cat is.

epilogue: Don called me when he was done snow-shoeing and I put Harvey into his kennel. Sorry, dude: you stay home now. I drove out to Estacada to meet Don for dinner and we talked about his day. So I got to have dinner out with my sweetheart AND I got to take Harvey shopping. It was a nice day. I think Harvey was happy (except for the going out to dinner part).