Every time we leave the house, we have a conversation with Sam first. Sam sees us getting ready and starts his little happy dance.
Sam: oh boy oh boy oh boy, we’re going somewhere!
Us: Oh, Sam. Mommy and daddy are going to work and you have to stay here. (“Work” means going away without Sam)
Sam: ears go down, slinks away to jump on the bed.
Us: (following Sam into the bedroom) You’re in charge of the house. Don’t let Spooky invite her friends in. Be a good boy. You’re a good boy, yes you are, yes you are. (Said with smooches)
Sam: ducks head to escape smooches.
Us: We’ll be back in a while. Two whiles. Okay, probably more like three. Three whiles. Okay? (Said in overly bright happy tones)
Sam: climbs into the pillows, digs himself a nest to wait out the long desolate hours.
Us: Okay, well. Bye.
Sam: follows us with his sad eyes.
When we pull out of the driveway, there he is, watching through the glass door. We wave. “Bye, Sam.” Then we sigh.
Sometimes I seed his toy basket with treats before I go , creating a sort of doggy Easter egg hunt. When we get home, he’s always found them all.
I know, I know. But I bet you do something similar. Am I right?