We give Viggo the world or at least a Northwest, Continental USA portion of it. This weekend we took him to beautiful Cannon Beach where he frolicked in the sand and rain. To repay us for his much needed holiday he locked us out of the Jeep while we popped in for a quick coffee. Probably wasn't Peter's slickest move, leaving the keys in the ignition-at the very least I am concerned Viggo has intuited how to drive (isn't sticking ones head out the window of the car the first thing teenagers do when they are street legal? See, step one: passed)
Luckily Viggo didn't move the car but he did do a very curious thing. Rather than thrash and whine (like a drunk prostitute brought in for questioning) as he does when left alone at home- Viggo was calm during the hour we spent waiting for the lock guy. We spent much of the hour at the door window, like fools, trying to coerce him into pushing his paws on the unlock button. We probably looked like a backwards zoo. The small guy in the passenger seat serenely observed us as we flailed the hand not holding a latte around in the air. I guess we weren't much of a show though, at one point he took a nap.
Considering how Viggo loves nothing more than to impersonate a guard dog, I would have thought he would have been worried for us. Here he was, ensconced in leather and bags of snacks and there we were, under a rain cloud and near other small dogs dressed in sweaters. But no, he didn't seem to mind in the least bit that we were in harms way.
Oprah tells us that Maya Angelou once said, "you never truly know a person until you see them deal with lost luggage." Today I met my dog. He's crafty with tools and calm under pressure.
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