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From Mike Dye, Software Engineer:

A Semi-Non-Ficticious Conversation
(Overheard in a Small Town Coffee Shop)

"Plop!"

"Whoah!"

"Yeah, I know. Bad dog. Yuck. But there it would be, right in the middle of the carpet."

It's one of those conversations that you can't really get your brain to filter out. These two white-haired business men have been here for a little while, drinking their coffee. The one with the dog problem is taller and more heavy-set than his companion.

"Yuck!"

I haven't heard the short guy manage a complete sentence yet. Too busy stuffing day-old lemon bread into his mouth.

"Don't get me wrong... We tried to train her, but it was the middle of the summer. They can't think in the heat. It melts their brain." (long pause) "Or something..."

"Uh-huh"

Fascinating. Why am I in here? First day of spring, and I'm indoors trying to write a letter and listening to people talk about how to train dogs. I should get outside and go biking or something... The habit of being locked inside all winter somehow overrides the energy of heat. How lame.

"What we wanted her to do initally was to sleep in the back hall, but that just didn't work. Whenever we'd get up in the night, we'd walk by her, she'd stand up, and PLOP! Right in the middle of the floor."

"Mmmmm!"

The last PLOP caught the attention of the woman sitting in the chair in front of me. She'd been trying to write something, but didn't seem to be having any luck. Too much staring out the window. Apparently she can't ignore the conversation either.

"What she really wanted to do, of course, was sleep in bed with us. We got her when she was ten months old or so, and she was used to sleeping with her owners. They're from New York and wanted a dog for protection but..."

"You should get her some diapers."

"Huh?" (startled at his friend's newly-discovered ability to speak)

"Yeah, get her some of those doggie diapers. You know, like for babies or old people, but for dogs. Or maybe you should try letting her out every once in a while. Taking her for a walk. The weather isn't so bad now, so you can't keep using that as an excuse. It's cruel to keep that dog in like you do. No wonder she messes your carpet! I would too!"

Yeah.

"Whatever you say" he says, standing to leave. "I'm going over to look at some Van Goghs."

The dog man walks out. His short friend, licking the last of the lemon bread from his fingers, follows him out the door. I exchange a brief glance and a smirk with the woman in front of me. She laughs, and goes back to staring at what she has started to write. I can see over her shoulder a bit...

"Spring was here, at least for a few days. The usual greyness I have become sadly acustomed to over the past months suddenly replaced by heat, open air, and the gentle color of growing things.
I'll miss it."

Mike Dye (4/10/98)

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Read more "Letters from Tripod" in the archive.