Since we’re now in the dog days of summer — the 40-day period that lasts from July 3 to Aug. 11 — it seems only appropriate to use today’s space to write about the two 100-plus-pound pooches that make my wife and I smile every day.
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“How are you doing today, Santiago?”
It’s a question that I get asked a couple of times a month when I stop to pick up a chai at a coffee shop near where we live.
Santiago, however, is my 4-year-old golden retriever. He’s named after the Camino de Santiago, a 500-mile hike across Spain that I completed with a friend during the dog days of summer in 2017.
The employees at the coffee shop think I’m Santiago; I haven’t had the heart to tell them he’s actually my 110-pound golden retriever who looks like a lion but acts like the lion from “The Wizard of Oz.”
Let me explain.
The coffee shop allows you to order ahead of time from your phone so that your drink is ready by the time you get there. Since the account is under my wife’s name, I always used to look for the cup labeled Jennifer. It never occurred to me, however, that Jennifer is a common name.
Just how common?
So common that two weeks in a row there were two Jennifers that put in orders at about the same time. And both weeks I walked out of the store with the wrong drink because I only looked at the name instead of also checking the drink label.
Oops. I hope the other Jennifer likes chai.
I convinced my wife to change our account name to Santiago — a logical choice since our golden retriever enjoys pup cups from the coffee shop much more than I savor my weekly chai.
While the change solved one problem, it has created another. The kind and gracious employees go out of their way to use first names when they see you on a regular basis. For me, that’s every Friday a little after 6 a.m.
I have been Santiago for almost a year and haven’t shared with them yet that I’m Justin and that Santiago is out in the car drooling in anticipation of the pup cup I’m about to bring him. The employees are always so busy early in the morning that I never want to slow them down by telling them my Santiago story. Maybe I’ll just leave a copy of today’s News-Banner on the counter.
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The Fourth of July has come and gone but the loud fireworks that accompany the holiday seem to start earlier and last longer each year.
I am by no means a curmudgeon when it comes to fireworks, as I enjoy them as much today as when I was a kid. Starting to hear the loud explosions several days before July 4 and several days afterward, however, seems a bit much.
Our 6-year-old Bernese mountain dog, Alicia, is petrified and rendered motionless as soon as she hears the first bang each night as the night sky is illuminated by bright colors.
We rescued her from a puppy mill in February 2023; she has been scared of thunderstorms and fireworks since we brought her home.
She makes a dash for the basement, bathroom or closet as soon as she hears the first firework each night. The extra-long firework frenzy this year has caused us to give her some chill pills that our vet prescribed upon hearing how stressed and distressed she is. We’re thankful they work to take off the edge.
Call me a party pooper, but it seems like a week-plus of fireworks detracts from the joy of celebrating the Fourth on July 4.
Alicia would agree.
jdpeeper2@hotmail.com
