Cindy and Charlie

I recently took a trip on Amtrak to visit Cindy. Cindy has a new condo and has been busy decorating it and learning the ropes of being a homeowner on her own. I love what she has done with it and especially enjoyed just spending time with her. We weren’t actually alone – she has a big Rhodesian Ridgeback dog that takes up quite a bit of space. Charlie was happy to see me and tried to hump my leg. I figured he thought I was special until Cindy told me he does that to other people . . . probably everyone! Now I could say, “Just like a guy” . . . but I won’t. Cindy takes him out frequently for his bathroom breaks. She talks to him as do I with animals. So Charlie and she go down the street, talking all the time and looking for a doggie bathroom area. They come to a place with ivy and low bushes that looks pretty good, and Cindy says “Looks like a toilet, smells like a toilet . . . let’s make it a toilet!” Charlie backs into it, does his thing and away they go.

Cindy made a delicious leg of lamb and baked potatoes one night for us. Charlie sat a few feet away from the table and drooled the entire time. I knew he drooled when there was food, but this was drool like I’ve never before seen! It’s very hard to clean it up and very slippery if you step in it. I could just imagine myself slipping on some, flying through the air and breaking bones which would probably require me to stay there until I recovered. That would mean I’d be looking for drool constantly. So we spent time, down on our hands and knees, washing the floor and looking for more drool spots.

Charlie usually sleeps on Cindy’s bed, but while I was there, I took Charlie’s place. He would look at us, hoping I would disappear, but he’d eventually wander out to a big chair in the living room. Then we could shut the door so he couldn’t come back in later on. The last night I forgot to close the door, and during the night he jumped up and landed on my feet. I couldn’t move and couldn’t get him to move, so I went out to the kitchen and put some of the leg of lamb in his pan, rattling it around. He came running out and I ran back to the bedroom and shut the door. He spent the night in the chair.

Coming home on Amtrak wasn’t all that great. At one point, we were stopped for what seemed like forever. We were told other trains had to pass by, or the bridge over the river was up, or there were trains backed up in front of us, or the bridge was down and then right away back up again. This seemed to go on and on with the same excuses. All the passengers were on cell phones, telling their friends they’d be late. And then calling again . . . and again. I heard one man on his cell shouting “Are you hearing me now . . . are you hearing me now . . . we’re breaking up.” I wanted to launch into “Breaking Up Is Hard To Do” but I didn’t know all the words and my voice is lousy. I have no cell phone and had no friends eagerly awaiting my arrival. I almost felt like a loser . . . but not quite. Why would I inflict that sort of torture on friends, standing around a train station for who knows how long. My friends were all at home enjoying Seinfeld . . . oh, I forget . . . I have no friends who watch Seinfeld. But I did have someone at the station glad to see me – the cab driver! I had a delightful ride home but think I tipped him too much as I had no change and he said he had no change. I find that hard to believe, but then I find many things hard to believe these days.