Friday, September 11, 2009

Ray and The Three Tenors

I dropped Ray at daycare. I kinda hated to do it. It was a nasty, rainy morning. We had gone for a walk and when we got back Ray picked up his bone and looked at me with his tail wagging, a definite sign that he wanted to play keepaway.
"Come on Ray, let's go see Porkchop," I said (code for daycare). I picked up his leash but Ray stayed put, his tail wagging, bone hanging out of his mouth.
"Come on, Ray, one more day," I said. "Then we can play." 
Ray dropped his bone and got ready to go. He's such an amiable dog.
When we got there, Donny put him in the grooming side with a bunch of little dogs- which Ray always prefers. He immediately picked out a fierce little poodle, ironically named Angel, who was determined not to play. She pretended to attack, snarling and nipping without really doing anything. Ray ambled around and found an even smaller dog leaning against the chain link trying to be invisible. He got behind the dog and yelled, the force of which practically lifted the dog off of its feet. Not intimidated, though, the dog stayed put. Ray kept yelling. In concert with his yelling, howling erupted from the daycare side of the facility. I went to look. It was the two Schnauzers, Bear and Ty, and a Beagle named Beagle Bailey. 
"It's the three tenors," said Donny, "Although Beagle Bailey is more of a soprano." (Beagle Bailey had a beautiful voice).
As I was leaving, I noticed a vacancy notice hanging in the window. A couple of the young people had cut back their hours to go back to school. A few weeks previously, I had talked to Chance about his job. 
"There's never a day when I don't want to go to work," he said. 
 I thought wistfully what of what it must be like to enjoy a job that much and briefly toyed with the idea before heading off to my desk.
I called Gregg that evening and asked him if he could pick up Ray. It was going to be a late one. When I got home, Ray was asleep and both the cats were waiting in the front hall for me. I said 'Hi' as I put my purse on a bookshelf and saw Ray get up, stretch, and head over. Hugo heard him coming and took off through the gate. Moonie obliviously watched me put my purse away. Ray, still half asleep, tripped over her. Moonie looked as surprised as a cat can when being tripped over by a large hound, recovered, and rocketed out of the room, trailed by a frantically happy Ray. He knows he has a friend out there somewhere, he just can't seem to pin her down.

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