I met Ollie the moment my friends, Rob and Jill, opened their door in Menlo Park, California last Wednesday. Ollie greeted me the way most dogs do-tail wagging, barking loudly, and clearly mouthing to me, "Who are you and when are you leaving?" Ollie is pictured below.
You are probably asking what kind of dog is he and how old is he, but after 13 hours of driving that day, I honestly don't know. They probably told me, but I can tell you that he's a dog and lives there and it's his kingdom and I was obviously trespassing.
I explained to my friends that my relationship with dogs is complicated. I didn't have a pet for 60 years and I have had a dog for the last five years. I am used to being around dogs, especially the barking kind. Two of our kids in Colorado both have two dogs so we sometimes have five dogs in the same house. I do remember that clearly happening.
Over the next 24 hours, Ollie would greet me with loud barks and would circle around me. I gave him a few quick pats and talked to him as if he understood I was friendly. He wanted me to throw his toy as you can see below. I didn't want to make a habit of it, so when it was on the floor I gently kicked it to my right and he went after it.
That may have been the friendly gesture he was looking for. On my last day there he wasn't barking possibly because he could tell I was leaving. I snuck out of the house early the next morning without saying goodbye to him. He's probably been wandering past the guest room all day looking for me. I'm almost certain in his head he can hear James Taylor singing, "You've Got a Friend."
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