I don’t drink coffee but I am married to one who does. Back in the dark ages, when we dated, I picked Shawn up early on Sunday mornings for the long drive to church. I knocked on her door and stuck a steaming cup of coffee through the crack, first. Shawn Eddy was mellow once the coffee worked its magic. Now she is Mrs. Shawn Nichols and coffee still plays a part in our relationship.
A couple of times a week I take Shawn to her favorite spot, Caribou, hand her some money, and wait patiently keeping the car warm while she runs in to grab a coffee. I plan our errands so we pass Caribou first and her face brightens noticeably as she sips that nectar.
Shawn does not order the same thing twice and I have tried to decipher her scheme. I think her mood determines her choice. I took notes for a while so I could drive solo and surprise her with coffee in bed. It has not worked as she is up and around by the time I return but I get points for trying. I keep this note under my desk blotter and perhaps when summer weather returns this option will be in vogue again.
As we left our house one blustery Saturday, we passed a man out for a morning walk. He was bundled against the cold. His dog was straining at the leash, energized by the frigid air and ready to run. The poor man was restraining the dog with one hand while keeping a coffee cup balanced in the other.
We noticed a little bag swinging back and forth banging against the cup and realized it contained a doggie surprise or K9 landmine as some call it. Kudos to that gentleman for scooping the pooch poop but can I offer an opinion? “Ugh!” in fact I will say, “Ugh! Ugh!”
I can only imagine the skill required to take a sip of coffee with that setup. I asked Shawn how she would like holding a bag of doodie and a cup of coffee in the same hand. She suggested I drive faster and ask me after her coffee. I did both. She would prefer her coffee not be doodie flavored.
It’s a dog’s world out there.