HomeSick

You know your homesick when you look at photo's stored on your phone for pleasure because that's as close to a dog fix as you are likely to get.

I'm here in Portland on business. I read somewhere they have more dogs here per ca pita than any other state. Yet, in three days I've only seen two dogs. One was in a bead shop named Beads and Bullies. That gives you a hint on their choice of dog. I love all dogs, but frankly seeing a fat dog that wheezes didn't really make my day. I felt like I should apologize to it for making it get up to come over to me. He didn't enjoy it, and neither did I. Some people lure their dogs with treats. This lady lured it with a back scratcher. Alrighty then.

The other dog we saw was driving by in a car. Well, the dog wasn't driving, it was in the passenger seat with it's head out of the window. It was a small dog (a lap yapper) but seriously, it could have been on the Muppet Show. So close and yet so far.

I call home for regular pup-dates. The boys are good, Sophie won't come out of her crate. I call again in the evening. The boys are good, Sophie won't come out of her crate. Hank and Mick may not have noticed I'm gone, but apparently the Queen of Timidity has.

I miss the spontaneity, the fur flying joy of canine life. I miss the nudges for attention, the happy tails wagging. The "oh, life is good, life is good, life is good, watch me poop, who has the liver treats, I'm such a good boy, pet me, pet me, pet me" circle of life.

Thankfully, I go home tomorrow and can get my fix. Hot diggity Dog!