Tommy The Dawg

“Tommy the Dawg” is so dang smart.

I’ve driven all over this mountain with him at my side, and in the beginning, I would say the words, “Hold On” when going into a curve or making a turn, and he learned to “hold on.” He did this by taking his head out of the window, facing forward, and bracing himself.

We’ve ridden around so much, though, that he now has it all memorized.
I don’t have to say “hold on” anymore. Tommy knows. He has the roads memorized.

And he’s so dang cool.
I was at the local CVS checking out when a man walked in from the outside.
“Excuse me; Is that your dog out there?”

“Yep. He’s my best friend.”

“He’s so cool!” the man exclaims.

“Thank you. I try to take him with me while I’m out and about.”

“What’s his name?”


“His name is even cool. He just sits patiently.”

“Is it okay if I give him a Dog Biscuit? I keep ’em in my car for just this occasion.”

“Yeah, sure. That’ll be nice for ol’ ‘Tommy.'”
I already keep Dog Biscuits in my vehicle, but I didn’t want to spoil this guy’s excitement.

I pay my bill, grab my bag and walk outside.

The man, who is standing at the door talking to Tommy, turns to me and says, “I’m Jim. Nice to meet ya.”

“I’m Lynn, Jim. Nice to meet you as well. You already know Tommy.”

Jim continues, “My girlfriend has a Pitbull who is a Teddy Bear. He loves me.”

“Yeah, I hear they’re very friendly. Just have a bad rep.”

“Yeah. ‘Lance,’ that’s his name, is as sweet as can be.”

During this whole conversation, Tommy is staring me down. I know he wants to get back on the road so he can stick his head out the window and feel the breeze.

Jim and I finish our conversation, and I get back in my vehicle.
Tommy stares at me as if saying, “Let’s not let that happen again. Okay?”

I pet him, roll the window the rest of the way down, and Tommy sticks his head out the window.

And we ride on.