Last week, we went to an agility trial somewhat far from home, making it necessary to book a hotel for the weekend. After a long day of agility, we arrived at the hotel.Dad stayed in the truck with us, while mom went into the room to do a “pill check”. She had a bit of a fight with the hotel building glass door on the way in, as it wouldn’t yield to her desire to open it. It took her a minute or two, but it complied in the end. The folks are fastidious about checking for pills because they’ve found quite a few in many hotels in the past. It seems that some hotel guests can’t complete the transfer of their medication between the container to their mouth, thus they drop the pill and are apparently too lazy to pick it up. Said pill will lie helplessly on the carpet, waiting to be retrieved so as to fulfill its purpose in life. When that purpose doesn’t arrive, the little pill’s only hope is the requisite vacuum cleaner’s arrival upon their owner’s checkout. Unfortunately, either hotel vacuums don’t suck or they don’t cover as much carpet area as they should, leaving the lowly pill helplessly doomed to a lifetime of unfulfilled dreams.
Once Mom completed the pill check, she came out to the truck to tell dad that the coast was clear. Dad had started unloading the bags and had already taken the Cresteds (my sister Morgan and brother Pepe) out of the truck. He left Hudson, Rodney and me in the truck, so he could walk us, once he took the Cresteds into the room. Mom opened the rear lift gate of the truck and was in the process of unloading bags herself (while we supervised), when she saw another guest fighting the same glass door that had given her so much grief. She stopped unloading, pressed the auto close button for the lift gate and walked the short distance across the parking lot to help the lady with the door.
They got the door open and in they all went in – mom with bags in hand, followed by a fully-loaded dad, who was also holding the Cresteds’ leashes. They walked into the room, started putting bags down, took leashes off Cresteds, when suddenly, they heard a bark. They glanced out of the hotel room window, only to see the lift gate had re-opened. Again they heard a bark…they looked around and there was Rodney, sitting in front of the building door, looking into the hotel, calling for someone to let him in. Apparently, the lift gate had failed to close when mom pressed the button. I saw it happen and warned Rodney not to jump out the back. It’s a five-foot drop and we are strictly forbidden from exiting the vehicle that way. I told him that it was a “smoteable” offense, but he ignored me. As he jumped out and crossed the parking lot, I reminded him that he could get arrested for breaking Potter Law #201 “Thou shalt not exit the truck without permission”, again, no reaction.
Dad came running out of the hotel and took him by the collar, relieved that even though he’d broken the law, he’d gone straight to the door and called for the folks. Mom, too, was pleased that Rodney hadn’t decided to wonder off, perhaps cross the highway and either gotten picked up by an animal control officer or worse yet hit by a car. The whole thing could’ve developed into a fiasco.
Later that night, I noticed that Rodney was preoccupied. I asked him what was wrong and he said that he’d been giving a lot of thought to his transgression. He asked me what would’ve happened if he’d been arrested by the animal cops. I told him that he’d no doubt have been booked and convicted. As a result, he’d have a record – which I’m guessing would be Carrie Underwood as he enjoys listening to country music. I informed him that his conviction would appear on his record written in indelible ink. He seemed to panic, so I eased his mind by telling him that he could get his record expunged, provided he wasn’t rearrested. He looked puzzled, he didn’t know what “expunge” meant. “Well, it’s when a sponge is no more.It ceases to be a sponge.It becomes ex-sponge”, I said.“How does that happen? Do you throw it back into the sea?”, he asked.“No”, I said, “you divorce it.” With that, I turned off the lights and bid him goodnight.