Let’s face it. I was not looking forward to it.
“There it is!” I pointed. “The Sleep Inn.” Our truck turned off the four lane highway and into Charles City, Iowa, ending our day of travel. Mr. Magoo was going to spend his first night in a hotel.
I repeat. I was not looking forward to it.
The hotel was “dog friendly” and I’d made reservations ahead of time but my nerves were still on edge. Maybe we shouldn’t have done this. Hubby and I had decided to bring Mr. Magoo, the pug, along with us to St. Louis for Christmas instead of depositing him in the dog boarding kennel as we usually do. He’s alone now since Goldie, the lab, passed on and we felt he might be too lonesome.
Now I wondered if we’d made the right decision.
The first hour strengthened that doubt. As we slowed down and approached the hotel, Mr. Magoo watched out the window with great intensity. Restless from a nine-hour drive, he was eager to get out and romp. As he bounced up and down on my lap, I wondered if I’d get any sleep tonight.
Following a walk in an icy near-by field, we brought him in. He loved the hallway, dashing here and there and everywhere, gathering up all the good scents, and from what I could see, this hotel had a lot. He was on leash, of course, but I fervently wished I’d paid more attention to the “heel” part of puppy training all those years ago.
However, I maneuvered him into our room successfully where he went berserk with more delicious smells offered by a “dog friendly” room.
He’s always been too much of a gentleman to lift his leg indoors, but I wasn’t sure what he’d do under these circumstances. (What does a dog know about a hotel room?) So I trapped him in my arms until we got the crate set up and plopped him in it. A Beggin’ Strip sweetened his incarceration, but I avoided his reproachful eyes as the last bit slid down his gullet, and he realized he was imprisoned.
Surprisingly that was the worst part of the evening. Mr. Magoo caught onto the hotel thing quite easily. Eventually, we sprung him from the crate, and he spent the evening sitting on a rug brought from home with the understanding that he was not allowed to run freely in this place.
When bedtime came, we put him back in the kennel, not feeling comfortable with a pug on the loose. To my surprise, he was a model dog, not barking, whining or crying.
The next three nights were spent at our daughter’s home in St. Louis, celebrating Christmas. Mr. Magoo became part of the household, eventually unnoticed by even the 3-year-old twins who loved to chase him around the house.
Our overnight hotel stay on the drive home couldn’t have been better. The hotel was quiet, and we were placed in a room next to the dog walking area. Mr. Magoo behaved so well he was allowed to sleep at my feet on a quilt brought from home. When all is said and done, Magoo’s role as a traveling companion went very well.
Wonder why I was so worried in the first place.
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