In all the years I've been writing these pieces, I've written a lot
about my kids. People seem to remember those pieces and often ask
me how my children are doing.
Just for the record, two are grown and on their own and the
youngest is about to be 15 and enter high school this fall. But
enough about them. I want to write about the family dog.
I've never written a piece about the family dog. I've wanted to
do that for a while now but could never figure out what on earth it
might have to do with travel.
It probably doesn't have a thing to do with it, but that has
never stopped me before. Determined to find a connection, here's
what I came up with. If you think it's too thin an excuse to
justify a piece on a travel industry Web site, I'm sorry.
I find it difficult to leave my dog when I travel. I miss my
wife and daughter, but I mean I really miss the dog. I sort of miss
the two cats but somehow it's not the same. They don't seem to care
quite as much about my comings or goings. Maybe they do and just
don't show it.
But the dog -- his name is Dusty and he's a mutt -- really seems
to care. He doesn't seem happy at all when the luggage comes out.
Maybe that's my imagination, but he seems to frown on the idea.
What isn't my imagination is the way he greets me when I come
back from a trip. It's not the same as the way he greets me when I
come home from work. On those days, he comes to the door, checks me
out and trots off to announce to the others that I'm there.
But when I come home from a trip, he goes nuts. I get a nice
welcome home from the humans, but I mean the dog really seems to be
pleased that I've returned. He barks, jumps up and down, follows me
around, all that good stuff.
Sometimes, on the road, I sit in my hotel room watching TV and
wondering why he isn't sitting there a few feet away, curled up in
his bed. Nothing seems quite the same without him.
We have quite a few "animal people" around the office. A couple
were saying the other day that they were more "animal people" than
"people people." I always thought of myself as a "people person"
and I hope I still am one. But I'm becoming more of an "animal
person," at least a "dog person," or maybe just a "Dusty
person."
When I decide to take a trip, I think about how homesick I might
become. I can usually handle the part about missing the humans. But
going for several days or longer without Dusty is really tough.
I'm seriously thinking of asking anyone who wants me to go
anywhere in the future if I can bring Dusty.