Scene One, 7:17am:
Single mom peacefully sitting outside local Starbucks with Orzo (our six-month old Cavalier puppy) one Friday morning…daughter inside getting herself banana bread and getting me a decaf coffee.
Scene Two, 2 minutes later:
Disheveled stranger with adorable grey poodle plops at the table next to me. Opens laptop and begins clicking away.
I feel a stare and look over at him, casually. He is staring at me, not at all casually.
”I’m working until the coffee line goes down. That’s why I don’t have anything yet.”
Oooo…kay? Okay. I only stare back.
Said poodle looks antsy. Why? Running all over the place – more than my puppy, more than my daughter at age four when she drank almost a full pitcher of lemonade. Oh. Puppy really needs to go! Owner bangs away at laptop. Click clack, click clack.
Scene Three, 1 minute later:
Poodle begins running all over the place, first pees twice within 6 inches of my foot, then on a Starbucks chair then tangles into Orzo’s leash, where he pees again. Owner *very* busy at laptop, notices nothing. Poodle pees again, at the table his master is typing away at!
Click clack click clack! (Intense typing now)
Scene Four, 1 minute 33 seconds later:
How long before a Barista decides dogs won’t be allowed here anymore?
Surely if he noticed his dog was going to burst he would walk him four steps to that tree right there? And pour a little water to dilute the pee on the Starbucks chair, table, and pole? Surely. Or look at all…embarrassed? Surely?
I can’t help it…so…“Ummm,” (smiling) “Excuse me? I think he may need a small walk as he keeps peeing?” Smile, blink, blink.
He smiles back, laughing “with” me. Grrr.
Then he nods in agreement. Click click, click clack! Grrr.
Click click, click clack!
Scene Five, 49 seconds later:
Poodle pees again. We run for fear of what’s coming out of said poodle next, adorable (and completely ignored) as he is.