One summer, I was on my way to visit my family. My daughter asked me to come up for a visit in her little mountain town. It was about a four-hour-long drive, and my dogs, Max and Mitzi, loved road trips. It was fun to watch my Muttley Crew settle in my Chevy HHR and look out the window as the scenery unfolded from arid plains to mountain vistas.
Once we arrived in Fairplay, I decided to stretch my legs and then grab some lunch. After walking around the little town, we stopped at a local cafe. I stuffed my tiny crew into a traveling bag that looked like a purse, stood in line, and ordered a chicken sandwich and an iced tea.
Now, Mitzi loved riding quietly in the purse, but Max never quite got used to the cramped quarters and began grumbling about his latest predicament. He wanted nothing more than to be on his leash so he could explore the area and greet people in the restaurant.
As his restlessness grew, my unhappy dachshund betrayed my covert operations by squirming and whining, catching the attention of the customers and staff. Everyone wanted a peek, and when I unzipped a small opening, they laughed when two small dachshunds peeked out of the purse. From that moment on, I received the gold standard of service.
Once I settled on the outside patio where dogs were welcome, the staff brought my lunch, a bowl of water, and some turkey breast for my babies. The little town was busy that day, and people kept wanting to pet my mini dachshunds. And my puppies soaked up the attention and offered endless kisses in return.
After lunch, we headed back to the car, and I was more than ready to get up the mountain and see my family. Max and Mitzi seemed to know we were getting closer, too. They perked up in the back seat, little noses pointed toward the window, watching the world roll by.
We climbed steadily toward Hoosier Pass, where the pines thickened, the air turned crisp, and the mountains opened up in every direction. At the top, the view nearly took my breath away. Peaks rose in the distance, the valley stretched below, and between the trees, the Blue River flashed in the sunlight.
From there, the road wound down through the mountains toward Breckenridge, then on through Frisco and Silverthorne. The towns were busy, the traffic was slow, and I was impatient to be on my way. The pups watched every passing car, cyclist, stroller, and tourist as if they were personally responsible for greeting all of Colorado.
Once we left Silverthorne behind, the radio faded in and out, so I pushed an Eagles CD into the player and let the music fill the car. The landscape changed again, turning drier and more open, and even though I was only about forty miles away, that last stretch always felt the longest. Maybe it was because I missed the pines. Maybe it was because I could hardly wait to hold my grandbabies.
By the time we finally rolled into town, Max and Mitzi were wide awake and full of excitement. As soon as I turned off the main street and headed down the familiar back roads, they began whining and barking, just like they always did when they knew we were close.
I pulled into the driveway, and before I could even gather my bags, the kids came running out, happy to see us and even happier to welcome the dogs.
Once we have settled in, I sit on the couch, and Mitzi hops up on my lap.
Cameron sits next to me, wanting to hold my little dog. Mitzi is ecstatic, wiggling, bouncing, and giving kisses. Cameron laughed so hard and turned his face away. But Mitzii would have none of it and follows Cameron’s face. As Cameron continues to laugh, Mitzi’s tongue darts into his mouth. Everyone in the room freezes as they witness Cameron’s surprise. But in no time, he begins laughing, and without missing a beat, my grandson delivers the perfect one-liner, “ Great, my first French kiss was with Honey’s dog, Mitzi!”
The room explodes in laughter. My daughter, Leslie, shivers in disgust at the thought. And Mitzi, oblivious to what just took place, continues to wiggle and bounce from grandchild to grandchild, hoping to sneak in just one more kiss.
Now, Cameron may not have appreciated Mitzi’s enthusiastic little greeting that day, but his quick reaction made sure the moment would be retold at family gatherings for years to come. Sweet Mitzi always loved the grandkids, but on that particular day, she apparently decided Cameron needed the deluxe dachshund welcome package, no warning, no manners, and far too much love.
