This afternoon, while I was finishing up with dishes in the kitchen sink, the doorbell rang. I dried off my hands on a paper towel, tossed it in the trash and approached the door with my westie sidekick, Brian. Now, being only 5 feet tall, I am unable to see through the peephole on my door without the aid of a stool so I just opened the door. There was a man in blue at the door, with several packages. (Textbooks, it's that time of the semester.) I opened the screen door to retrieve the packages from the friendly postal worker, and he said "You'll have to sign for this one."
At this time, Brian really wanted a chance to see who was speaking to me. I held my hand down, and firmly told Brian to "sit". He sat, let out one small groaning whimper, and then accepted his fate of having to sit. I signed for the package with the door ajar, and Brian sitting inside
.
The postman asked me, "What kind of dog is that?"
"He's a westie," I responded. "Isn't he the cutest dog you've ever seen?"
"He's definitely handsome. I was just noticing what a well-behaved dog he is."
"Thank you! Hope you have a good weekend."
"You too, thanks!" The postman waved as he headed down the driveway.
I balanced the packages in one arm as I closed the door and swooped down to pat Brian's head.
"Good boy," I said.
End of story, beginning of commentary.
First of all, I will forever love telling this story because I can begin it with "I was washing the dishes". That makes
me look really good!
The real reason I love this little occurance is because as you all know, from the inception of what we now know as the United States Postal Service, there has been an ongoing feud between mailmen and the canine population. The blame for this bad blood between the two is generally placed upon the canine population. Dogs often bark incessantly at the first sign of the postman, they chase them down in the streets, and often steal the mail from them. (Or at least that is what happens on television shows, cartoons and comics.) With the proverbial dog-mailman relationship so negative, it was a real honor for the postman to compliment Brian.
There is no greater accolade about a dog than one that comes from the mailman.
Yep, dogs. Walking along with my little pal, having people gawk at his precious white face led me to the understanding that Brian is my geisha. You see, he is showered with love and affection simply because he is something nice to look at, and he makes me feel good about myself. Who waits at the door so that he can kiss me and wag his tail when I come in the door? Whom do I shower with gifts and affection? When he and I are out in public and he is by my side, who do people smile at and flirt with? 
