Black Lab

There I was outside in the garden deadheading daisies when a lovely looking family walked toward the church — mom pushing an empty stroller, young child toddling along, dad with camera, an older woman — probably grandma, and a nice looking black dog — maybe a lab.  They stopped in front of the church.

Out came mom’s cell phone.  Out to arm’s length went dad’s camera.  Into the church went grandma.  Into the church toddled the child.  Into the church followed the dog.  I waited for mom or dad to call the dog back.  Nothing.  “Excuse me,” I called.  Mom shifted her gaze from cell phone to me.  “Yes,” she said.

At that point I should have taken a page from my friend Pat’s book.  Years ago when someone brought their dog to the Annual Oysterville Croquet and Champagne Gala, Pat asked, “Do dogs play croquet?” I definitely should have asked that mom if her dog had gone into the church to pray.  But… you know what they say about hindsight.  I could only say stupidly, “But it’s a church!”

Oysterville Church 1902

Fortunately, about that time the dog and the toddler came out.  Grandma took a little longer.  I asked that she close the door behind her which she did.  And, without further ado (or apology or comment or acknowledgement of any kind) they continued strolling and toddling down Territory Road.

I have many dog-owning friends.  In fact, as I think of it, almost everyone I know has at least one dog in the family.  I believe that all of them are responsible pet owners and know which venues are appropriate for their four-legged friends and which are not.  I apologize to all of them for writing this blog, but… what in the world have we come to?   No manners?  No sense of propriety?  I guess a case could be made for the church not being posted with “No Dogs. No Horses.  No _____________.”  (You fill in the blank.)

As my mother often said, “I despair.”