Dogs As Currency

Traveling with dogs, I worry about them inconveniencing folks. At campgrounds, I walk them before bedtime so they will be tired and quiet. This may be a silly concern because I'm often parked next to a large RV with a loud generator that allows its inhabitants to be unaware of outside noises.

Coloradoans Linda and David Jessup invited me to visit their working guest ranch, Sylvan Dale, in Loveland. They also offered to set up a signing and reading at Loveland's Anthology Book Store. I said I would be traveling with dogs and they said no problem; their house in town had a fenced yard.

The Jessup's house turned out to be an elegantly remodeled older home on a quiet block, with a beautiful yard. I wondered if a dog might decide to lay down on beautiful flowers or plants. The Jessups told me not to sweat it.

I said the dogs didn't need to come inside. The Jessups said they did. When an afternoon thunderstorm got the dogs wet and muddy, I dried them with a towel, but muddy tracks still appeared on the sun room's tiles. I offered to run a mop, but my hostess turned me down.

My visit included a tour of the beautiful ranch, lunch with the guests and staff, and an evening visit to a Colorado writer's group. Next morning, Linda took me to the Loveland Sculpture Garden. I said the dogs didn't need to come along; they would leave hairs on her car's clean back seat. Linda said they should come because they'd be in the car all day and needed to get out.

When I thanked Linda for her and David's lavish hospitality, she said, "You had currency. You brought dogs."

And I'd worried Shakespeare and Mick might be a nuisance.