We were dropping Murphy off at Camp Barksalot for a weekend stay before taking off on a short trip. They took him back to play and I was settling the bill when a man walked in behind me and spoke to the groomer/ camp counselor.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m here to pick up Barack.”
I handed over the signed form and started to follow Matt out the door, but I was dragging my feet. I stopped to look at a shelf of merch and started poking through the discount leash selection.
Matt realized I wasn’t behind him and returned to my side. “Do we need another leash?”
“Oh…” I said, looking back toward the door that Murphy had disappeared through, “maybe? I mean, you never know.”
“I thought we needed to get on the road?” Matt asked.
“I know but…” I leaned in closer and whispered. “I want to see this dude’s dog.”
“Why?” Matt sort of whispered back.
“Because…” I looked to the counter to see if we had drawn the man’s attention. We hadn’t. “I want to see if the dog is black.”
Matt put his arm around me and pulled toward the door. “You know the dog is black,” he said. “Let’s go.”
I was still trying to see as the door closed and I got into the car.
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