Early this morning I walked our two dogs around the neighborhood as usual and then returned home to the apartment building. Both my dogs, a big one of diverse heritage and a little one of terrier lineage, seem to have no problem understanding the elevator system in the building. So this morning, we get back home from the walk, step into the elevator, and I punched the button for the floor. I dropped their leashes for the brief ride up. Usually, when the elevator door opens on our floor they like to dash out and race one another to the apartment door.
This morning, everything seemed fine until I reached our apartment. Maybe I was a little sleepy. Here's the big dog with me, I thought, as I unlocked the door. But where's the little one?
Maybe he already rushed into the apartment, and I just didn't...uh...notice...No, doesn't appear to be here...Or...maybe he's still in the hallway.
Over 350 people live in our building, and there are three elevators for service to seventeen floors. All I could think to do in my panic was to take the first elevator that arrived, ride down to the lobby and alert the doorman.
When the door opened, there was my little dog in the lobby, waiting at the elevator, wagging its little tale.
I talked to the doorman later. "The dog was really cute," he said. "He seemed to ask, 'Where is she?'"