A Quandry

Hanging out with Lynne is incredibly fun. If you've had the chance to spend time with her, I know you agree. I'd say that I'm an expert in hanging out with Lynne and it's one of my favorite things.



However, I'm starting to question the wisdom of going out in public with her. Is it because she sometimes makes fun of clothes in stores?

Absolutely not! That's part of her charm.

No, it's the gruesome dog death stories.

I first became aware of this a year or two ago at the Harvest and Herb Fest here in Ada. We made the mistake of having a booth. I forget what we were hawking at the time, but there we were, trapped behind a folding table, vulnerable to all who passed by. Mostly we were able to smile and be nice, though she's better at it than I am (hold your comments).

Seems reasonable enough...but then it started...gradually at first and then it built up to a cacophay of gore.

People would stop by and say hello to Lynne. Easy enough. But then she'd ask about their dog. If the dog was still living, we were forced to listen to endless prattle about the dog's antics. I thought that was bad enough, but then the stories switched from "You should see how cute it is when Fluffy carries around my slippers" to "We...sniff....lost Scruffie. Eight months ago. It started with him not being able to stand up long enough to go to the bathroom, so I had to hold him while he did his business. That lasted for two months, then he started having gastric problems. Oh, you wouldn't believe the mess that caused." And it went on and on and on from there. In gruesome detail. Lynne was sympathetic and said things like "oh, what a shame. He was a nice dog." I pretended I had a cell phone call.

So, we just don't rent festival space any more. Problem solved.

Wrong.

This morning we stopped by a business in Lima and Lynne said to a woman there "Didn't you have a dog named Rusty (not his real name)."

Almost instantly the woman's eyes filled with tears. "Yes...we lost him a few months ago..." and then she started with the details.

To her credit, Lynne has gotten better at getting out of these situations. Not having a folding table around also helps.

I'd hate to miss out on our adventurs (especially since today she bought me breakfast at IHOP), so I'm thinking that we just need to have a few rules/guidelines and possibly some hand signals. My other plan is to just start coughing uncontrollably when these things happen since that's distracting and sometimes frightening. Or maybe I'll try to top their gruesome dead dog stories with some of my own.