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March 13, 2007

A Poodle On My Lap

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I got my taxes done yesterday with a Poodle on my lap. What a kick! Luka, a little rust colored ball of fluff is my tax accountant's dog.  Because Jon's dog sitter cut out on him for a few days, Luka had to camp out at the office right in the middle of tax season.

When I got there, she bounced out to the waiting room, scooted around my feet and I was immediately smitten.  "Oh, what a cutie!"  I exclaimed.  Jon greeted me with a sweet smile and a warm hug, but I ditched him quicker than you can say Poodle.

"What a sweetheart," I said in my high pitched doggie voice, scratching behind a scruffy ear.  I asked Jon if I could pick her up and he said she would probably love the attention.  He was right, her eleven pounds of warm doggie fur snuggled right up to my chest.  When I went into his office, Jon was left to bring up the rear with my coat and bag since my arms were full of Poodle.

For the next hour, while Jon dealt with wages and withholding, I held onto Luka, doing the doggie voice as she alternately snoozed and snuggled.   I kept warning Jon that she was just small enough to fit in my handbag, but he didn't seem worried.  He knew that Daisy, like her Mom, is not into sharing, and since she's dog of the manor, she'd have my head if I dared bring another canine home. 

So while I could, I enjoyed the wonderful tactile therapy of doggie cuddling while Jon crunched numbers and figured out ways to keep Uncle Sam from picking my pocket.  I usually help him out by deciphering my Quicken tax printout for him, but this time I pushed all my W-2's and 1040's and 690's and 1220's...okay, I made those last two up...across the desk and left Jon to worry about dividends and deductions.  The whole time, I had a silly grin on my face as if my refund were going to be six figures.  "How are you, my little girl?"  I cooed, gently stroking her belly.  Two brown, marble sized eyes peeked out at me through a mop of hair and I thought, suppose this was standard practice in other professional offices?

Imagine if you went to your lawyer's office and could hold a cute little dog while he told you your soon to be ex was trying to take you to the cleaners?  Or a cute little cat, if you swing that way.  What about at the doctor's office?  Wouldn't it be easier to hear that you have high cholesterol and have to give up bacon, with an adorable little Shih-Tzu in your arms.

Jon finished almost too quickly and I told him from now Luka had to be at all my future appointments.  He said he'd see what he could do.  When I got home, my little senior citizen sniffed me like a wife checking for alcohol on her husband's breath.  After I scooted on the floor and gave her a good cuddle, I reminded her that she's the top dog in my life.  Daisy, satisfied by that, then demanded dinner.

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