You all know I love a car ride. And if the ride happens to involve getting a treat from a nice man or woman, well, all the better. So we all pile in the car with Mom. It’s a beautiful day for a ride. The sun is shining, snow is melting, giving everyone the false impression that spring is really on it’s way. Ahhhh, such bliss. How much happier could a handsome Griff and his girls be?
The first stop on our journey was so promising. The drive-thru bank. The peeps who work at banks just fall all over themselves to do something special for us. I gather it’s because we’re “soooo cute”. Yeah, well, and what did they expect? For goodness sakes, we’re little Brussels Griffons!
Anyway, Mom’s driving up to the window, and, oh, my, gosh!!! She cruises right on thru, not stopping, not even slowing down. I almost broke my pretty little neck as I spun to watch the bank disappear. I whined, I whimpered, I searched Mom’s face for a clue to explain what had just transpired (or hadn’t transpired). I was adrift in a sea of overwhelming emotions. And most of them were not the good kind. What had just happened? We ALWAYS stop and get fawned on at the bank.
What? Excuse me? OK, say again, Mom. I don’t even know what “Presidents Day” is. Is this a day invented to torture small dogs? A day when dashing our hopes and crushing our feelings of well-being is actually acceptable? How can any mortal man be more important than the girls and I getting our due amount of spoiling??
This would not do. That was NOT going to happen. Really, this isn’t about me, as some of you are thinking. But, my girls, sweet old Gemmie and Pearlie Blue, the Pug-like Griff. What would they think if I let this travesty continue?? Would I be a lesser Griff in their eyes? Maybe they’d start looking to Atticus for all their needs. The implications here were just too much for One Cool Griff.
Let the whining commence. Frantic, hysterical whining that could be cured by nothing other than a stop at McDonalds. Whoa, these peeps are on top of it. Thank you McDonald’s Corporation. No Presidents Day here. This place has it’s priorities straight. “Could your dogs have cookies?”, the nice man asked. As if, why does he think we are here??
Half a cookie later, we were all happy dogs, at peace with the world and humanity. *SIGH*