Here I sit in a hotel called the Holiday Inn in Ronkonkoma, New York.  Something’s not quite right and I’m not sure what.  Ah, it’s a beautiful room, great big king-sized bed, lovely color TV, table, chairs and desk.  The draperies are lovely, the curtains are nice and the lamps work.  But something is missing, I don’t know what.  I’ve got a nice hot cup of tea and a cigarette in my hand, the air conditioning feels good, there’s a beautiful view…but something is definitely missing. 

It’s peaceful, it’s quiet, I can hear myself think.  So what is my problem you ask?  I’ve been able to pee in private without a little doggie on my knee and without three sets of eyes looking in on me.  I’ve got all my freckles on my face, all in one place instead of being smeared everywhere by a puppy tongue.  There are no toys on the floor to step over or trip over, there are no yips or yaps when a doorbell rings on TV.  There is no kitty sitting on the table to swat my pen as I try to write or dipping her paw into my teacup to see what’s in there.  There’s no one trying to sit on my lap as I’m trying to concentrate, no one trying to chase my mouse across the screen.  There are no birdies twittering away with their sweet song.  There’s no cat hair on the pillow, no doggie prints on the sheets.  How do they expect me to sleep here? 

There’s no furry body on my pillow, there’s no one lying over my legs chasing my feet under the blankets.  There’s no one snoring in my ear with their nose in my eye.  There’s no one to wake me up at 4 in the morning to be let outside to wee or gaze at the stars.  There’s no one to alert me that there’s another dog patrolling the sidewalk out front.  No one to let me know that there’s a moth by the light, no one to knock stuff off the dresser at night.  There are no little paws chasing each other all over the house in the dark, there is no kitty purring, no puppies barking.  I have to shower alone here with no puppies to help.  The toilet paper stays on the roll instead of adorning the hall, the toothpaste stays on the counter instead of being knocked off onto the floor. 

So you see, there should be no problems here at the Holiday Inn…well I do have a problem and here’s what it is.  I miss those furry faces, sticky tongues and toys on the floor.  I miss the kitty, birdies, and puppies. Without any fur babies the Holiday Inn is really not my cup of tea.  I think next time I’ll book myself into a kennel so that I feel more at home.

June 11, 2000