Two sunny windows. One Granny.
They kept getting on.
Marched silently in and turned around. Elbow to elbow.
They kept coming.
Despite the elevator bounced up and down in protest.
They continued to board: Japanese tourists with cameras, shoulder bags, and a few with souvenir T-shirts carefully draped over arms.
Poured in like peas into boiling water.
Yet she stayed silent.
Straight and tall as if a string pulled her up from between her ears.
With an opaque stare.
Revealing nothing. Her thoughts her own.
Chin bouncing with the elevator.
Finally, hotel staff intervening. Finally, the doors closing. Finally, lurching upward.
A polite silence of not understanding when the door opened.
“Please, this is our floor.”
The forest of people split to let us off.
Then a wave of oooo’s and aaaah’s as she moved forward with dignity and poise.
“German Shepherd. German Shepherd. Oooooooh.”
With the grace of someone used to dealing with paparazzi, the German stately moved on.
Relaxing some when the elevator occupants did not flow after her and those doors closed.
Still she urged us on faster and faster as the room’s door got closer.
Tossing off the tension once inside, she ran to the window.
Wagging that the ducks and geese were still in sight.
Freezing in delight at the sight of a deer now inching towards the lake.
A perfect observation point.
She approved of the hotel selection.
It had been a long day.
And a long trip.
The German was nearing her new home.
As it turned out, worries about the long car ride were needless.
Thrilled instead of throwing up.
Content to snooze rather than fret.
But the bathroom stops.
Well, you know. The conditions of some on the road. You just have to utilize what’s available.
“No we aren’t going to the one across the street.
No one is looking at you.
No, we are not leaving until you do something. It’s been a long time.
Look. That little one over there is cooperating. See?
Ok, yes, this is a bit sketchy, but hurry and we can run back to the car and lock the doors.”
New hotel room each night.
Got bowl? Got food? No problemo.
The final arrival went smoothly, of course.
Person was waiting!
Person’s car was here!
Person’s couch on Person’s rug!
Ahhhhh. Person’s bed! Just the place to crawl under to nap in peace…or to escape booming noises.
And familiar Granny!
Granny, the elder.
Who wasted no time in re-establishing her dominance and insistence on manners.
She rules with an iron arthritic paw.
Mandates meowed from the lofty way high locations.
Territory rules dictated.
All wide window ledges are part of the Granny preferred highway.
The perfect height windows are numerous enough and large enough for each to have assigned spots to enjoy the views.
The German mischievously “agreed” to all..snort, snort, chuckle.
Wet nose on back anyway.
Just joyful greeting.
Not act of aggression at all.
(Youngsters are always so disrespectful according to Granny.)
Just so happy, waggle tail.
Home finally with hers.
The transition has gone fairly smoothly.
Helped by the thrill of being welcomed by some canine playmates.
Graciously greeted first by a towering Great Dane gentleman who apparently oversees all. (Just come stand by me if you are intimidated.)
Invited be a parallel running partner by four other Germans. (Yes. Yes. They are just like me!)
Boldly accepted an invitation by the wild Golden pair.
Unlike the organized German pack, the Goldens race leaping, shouldering, and bumping.
Not forewarned, she lunged between them and was team-shoved in a team manuever worthy of the roller derby.
Tripped and rolled end over end multiple times.
Persons of Goldens apologized and ran over.
But by the time they arrive the German had shaken off her confusion and rejoined the melee.
Not to be overlooked, a medium-sized brown dog offered a long stick.
Once the German accepted, the brown grabbed the other end.
Quickly a smaller whitish poodle mix joined in by grabbing the stick’s middle.
Then off they all charged: running in tandem like harnessed chariot horses.
Thrilled upon thrill for the German.
“They like me. They really like me!”
One final greeting that meant the world:
A tiny pug stomped right up and squarely stopped in front of her.
His assertive doggy snorts rewarded by a quiet careful sniff.
We don’t know why, but the German loves Pugs.
This was home.
The German slept well.
Pleased with the pack,
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge
Read the entire German Saga by clicking “German Shepherd” in the sidebar.