July 9, 2011
White Dog and the rest of The White Dog Army met us at the door. It was 2 am, a fact we were reminded of as five pairs of eyes turned from Steve and I to the clock and then back again. We were returning home from week two of opera season.
"WHERE were you?" Quinn admonished, speaking before WD could get the words out. "We were VERY worried," Puff added. "And hungry," concluded YoYoMa.
"Who would have guessed that Faust was a long opera," I said. "Did you know originally it was over five hours in length. Just be glad modern producers shorten it up!"
"Don't go getting huffy," White Dog said. "We have waited and worried and we know it is a long dark drive home." "Like you tell ME, momma, a little less attitude," Nuka yipped.
"Sorry," I apologized, "It is late and I didn't mean to be flip about your concern. But we DID bring you home some chicken strips from the picnic."
"What do you say, White Dogs, should we accept her sorry?" White Dog asked the crowd as everyone sidled closer and sniffed at the box in my hands. "Sure, ok, chicken makes things even in our book," the WDA mumbled around the huge chicken strips each mouth was holding.
"By the way," asked White Dog as she looked up from her chicken held between her paws, "how was Faust?"
"It was a devil of a good story and production," Steve impishly laughed.