Fido and Me - Home Again

“I’m home, I’m home, thank Dog Almighty, I’m home!”

“Fido, you might have that ‘Dog Almighty’ thing turned around, but I get your point. It’s good to be back, isn’t it?”

“It felt like I was gone a year. That’s seven years to you, and that’s a long time. I thought I’d never ever get back here!”

“Surely, though, you enjoyed various adventures on your dog-cation.”

“Most of them were bad.”

“Aw, Fido, I can’t imagine that. You, a healthy hound, splashing by the sea, meeting new friends, walks in the redwood forests, salt air in your nostrils, the whole thing.”

“Too much traffic.”

“I don’t think there is a lot of traffic in the forests, Old Boy, or at the beaches, either. What are you talking about?”

“It’s getting to the beaches that is the tough part. It’s wild what they do down there, and I don’t like, don’t like, don’t like.”

“Care to be specific?”


“No, Fido, specific. What got your goat on your way to the beach?”

“I started counting cars and SUVs, pickups and Priuses. Wow they have a lot of Priuses down there. But I lost count right off the bat, even though most of the time, we were standing still. All the other cars were on freeways.”

“Yeah, well, lots of people like to live near beaches, and the ones who don’t live there, like to go there.”

“I had no idea there were so many people. Why do they call them freeways, anyway?”

“Good question, maybe for another day. Surely the walks in the redwoods were different, though, right Fido?”

“Still too much traffic.”

“Say it isn’t so, Fido.”

“It’s true! There were more cars going into the forest than I see in a whole year here in the mountains, and we live in the forest! Why just today on my Welcome Back walk, I didn’t spot a single car, truck, SUV or Prius.”

“There aren’t a whole lot of Priuses around here, Mr. Beeg.”

“That’s not even the point. And even when I got to the redwood forest, the pee-mail was so overwhelming, it felt like I was crowded into the back room of the largest pee-mail center on earth. Just in the one week, there must have been hundreds and hundreds of pee-mails there.”

“But I thought you liked that.”

“I do, but in moderation! Here, I can sniff out a new pee-mail about once every two weeks, two at the top of the tourist season, and even with those, I can tell that they’re familiar. Down there? Who knows who those hounds were?”

“I’m starting to see why you liked coming home so much. It really wasn’t much of a vacation for you, huh?”

“Next time, I’d like to go someplace that’s small and bucolic.”

“I think we’ll be able to handle that.”

“Someplace with dogs and people, but not so much traffic.”

“I think I know exactly the place we might try.”

“And someplace where there is just enough going on so we don’t get lonesome, but not so crowded that we feel all the more lonesome on account of too many people.”

“That sounds a little convoluted, but I know what you mean, and I know just the place, you big red lug.”

“Me too.”

“Welcome home, Fido. Everybody here missed you.”

“Not as much as I missed them!”