I have become known as the girl with dog, at least in the small city where I live. I have a few acquaintances, some from my job as a journalist, and run into them at coffee shops, restaurants and downtown. If I’m dressed casual after normal work hours and don’t have my miniature dachshund, Zoey, with me, they ask, “Where’s your dog?” It’s like we’re a unit, my 9-pound best friend and I.
Our hanging out together during after-work hours started with a conflict of interest. Being a single girl for a couple of decades (with boyfriends thrown in here and there), I got used to doing what I want in my free time. And then I adopted a dog with needs, particularly for going on walks, getting pets and being social.
As a coffee shop lover, I started taking my squirmy dog with me to a downtown coffee shop, so that I could read and satisfy her needs for getting attention. At first, she didn’t want to be a lapdog, but after a few weeks, she learned that it was a compromise – she sits on my lap and people come up to us and want to pet her.
I take her to open houses and events that allow dogs and into shops that do the same. The result – when I am sans dog, it’s like I’m missing my purse. I run into people who ask that question, where is she?
Zoey, too, loves our regular coffee shop. When we’re actually trying to take a walk and pass the shop, she pulls me to the door and scratches on the glass, as if saying, “Let me in!” “The shop is closed,” I tell her. “We can come back tomorrow.” Scratch. Scratch.
I feel bad for her, my friendly girl who wants to go inside for attention, a free bone and some love.
My challenge next week is to ask someone out for coffee who I normally would not, because I would tell myself, I’m too shy. I just might bring my dog, too.