Our crazy black lab Benjamin dug into my suitcase right up to his soft velvet ears and carefully extracted clothes from it. The pressed and packed business suits, the soft dress for the cocktail party; he would sneak into the living room dragging his prize and lay it before me as I sat on the couch the evening before I left on a trip. Benjamin!!
He knew what the suitcase meant. I was going away and in dog hours, it was always for too long. The time I arrived in my hotel in Salt Lake City to wonder if I’d forgotten to pack pantyhose. While my husband texted me and asked how come my pantyhose were on the couch. Hmmmm….. Benjamin.
With the suitcase zipped before another departure (I caught on finally), out of the corner of my eye I see Benjamin tiptoe in the living room with the final copy of the report I was presenting the next day in Toronto held carefully in his front teeth. As a retriever with a very soft mouth there wasn’t any damage to the papers as I collected them. I’d forgotten to zip my briefcase, and the message was clear. Stay.
Jasmine, the haughty sight hound that she is, deals with her goodbye issues differently by heading into her cave of a bed and ignoring me as I give her a cookie. But, that all changes when I come back. As I tumble into the house with suitcases and briefcases, she sits patiently waiting until I unzip the suitcase. Then she finds her treat, squeaks it in great delight as she dances and the world is right on its axis again.
There’s nothing like the feeling Benjamin gave me in his funny way, wanting me to stay, and being showered with happiness from a bouncing Jasmine when I come in the front door. I guess that’s why we live with our furry friends.
As the leg of the chicken/giraffe critter I bought in Maui slipped out of my briefcase in airport security screening, the officer smiled and said “ah, for your dog at home” and I replied, “yup, my suitcase always squeaks.”