I like pets. All kind of pets. When the kids were growing up, we had dogs and cats and birds. As the kids moved out and the pets crossed the rainbow bridge, I decided my time had come to enjoy other people’s pets. All my neighbors have dogs. And I have dog treats.
It started out as the occasional thing. I’d go out to water my plants and somehow the dogs knew and barked, ever so politely.
It’s now a daily routine. Each dog gets the exact same treat, regardless of size or how fast it makes it disappear.
I buy the treats at Trader Joe’s. Yes, I’m a real sucker for words like wholesome and natural and low fat…anyway, I’m up to three boxes of treats per Trader Joe’s trip.
And I tend to always end up with the same cashier, an old friend from a past life.
He packs my purchases in my reusable bag and he asks, “So, what kind of dog do you have these days?”
I stare at him like he’s batty, having already forgotten about the three boxes of treats.
He stares back, pulls out the doggie’s goodies, lines them up on the counter. I feel tempted to say those are my late night snacks, but I don’t.
I tell him about my newly found popularity. He nods and smiles…we’ll be friends in our next life, for sure.