We have a little mutt we call Ol’ Buddy. We inherited him from Jilda’s mom Ruby, when she passed away. Ruby actually named him Baby but there’s no way I would ever own a dog-named Baby.
I was convinced that with a name like Baby he would have unresolved issues with his self-image, thus the name change to Ol’ Buddy. The name suited him and he didn’t whine as much.
Ol’ Buddy makes friends wherever he goes. He loves everybody except small children. Not sure if he thinks they are competition or “other” but I do have to keep my best eye on him when our young nieces and nephews are around.
Buddy is a rock star at our local bank. He gets beside himself anytime we turn into the drive-through. He barks, wags his tail and dances off the armrests. He tries to jump into the cash drawer when it pops out to the window.
When the tellers talk to him, he cocks his head and tries to carry on a conversation with them. When the transaction is completed and the cash drawer comes back out to us, there is always a treat for Ol’ Buddy. It is his favorite way to spend his day, a trip to the bank, everyone talking to him and then he gets a treat. That is Buddy’s idea of life is perfect.
Recently Jilda ran by a different bank, the one that handles our business account. As she approached the drive through Ol’ Buddy got excited. The cash drawer popped opened and he started his performance, but there was no excitement. Everyone was going about business as usual and no one knew that he was the center of the universe.
I’m thinking the main thought running his brain was “ Money Changers, don’t you know who I am????”
To complete the disgrace, when the money drawer came out, the only thing it contained was a receipt, not a dog treat to be found.
Ol’ Buddy was devastated, he lay on the car seat all the way home, confused and depressed by the experience. I think he wants me to have a talk with that banking team. He just wants them to know all he wants is a little RESPECT and a treat. Is that too much to ask?
