Must Love Dogs

At my workplace, everyone has to carry a photo ID on them at all times.  In order to do so, we have an on-site photographer to take these photos and give us a printed copy.  Last month, my photo ID expired and I had to get it renewed, so I set up an appointment for the following week.

The day for my appointment, I drove over to the building and knock on the photographer’s door.  The photographer (I’ll call her Jane), who happens to be deaf, has a dog (I’ll call her Roxy) to notify her when someone is at the door.  As soon as I knocked, the dog started barking, and Jane let me in.  Once I stepped into the room, Roxy started jumping on me with her paws and, in a not-so-gentle fashion, clawed right on target.  After Jane started to yell at Roxy and a bit of petting from me, she finally calmed down enough so that I could get my photos taken without any trouble, after which I had to wait 10 minutes until they were printed, so I took a seat.  While waiting for the photos to develop, Roxy came up to me and I started to pet her again.  The next 10 minutes has been seared into  my brain for all eternity.

As soon as I began petting Roxy, she lied down at my feet, on her back, and goes spread-eagle with only her hind legs.  I Immediately knew what this meant, but decided not to oblige and kept my hands well above her waistline.  Not only do I have to pet her in that awkward position, but I have to keep it up for 10 minutes.

I kept this going until Jane interrupted to give me a status update on my photos.  The moment I stopped petting Roxy, she looked up at me, stared for solid 5 seconds, then, without averting her eyes from mine, proceeded to demonstrate the thighmaster exercise (for those of you unfamiliar with this, see here at the 25-second mark for more details).  Rather than have Roxy become more aggressive, I decided to continue petting her the way I had to keep her preoccupied until my photo printouts were finished.  Once they were, I left and headed back to my cubicle.

After submitting the photos for processing, I was notified that printouts were not acceptable and I needed Jane to burn the photos on a CD, which meant that I had to go back for another round of photos.  This meant I’d have to deal with Roxy all over again.  My first thought?

“Where did I leave that peanut butter?”