My pet and I went to a little place called Harrisburg for a week-long writing retreat. She brought along her friend and fellow writer, Diane, and the three of us hung out and wrote books. Actually, the truth is that I wrote Heather’s words while she took a vacation. I created an entire novella for her. Sure, she and Diane helped brainstorm. A little. But I came up with a funny little novella called Pride and Precipitation. The title was Heather’s. It’s pretty silly, but I try to humor her when possible. After all, she does control the biscuit flow.
I know she won’t have told this story yet, so I’m going to tell it here.
After she and Diane drove into St. George for a Texas Roadhouse steak dinner (all I got was dog food. Okay, okay, my pet brought me some little pieces of steak. I did write her book, after all. I deserved steak all week. But I digress.)
Anyway, when they returned back to the house, where I had been working on the first scenes of Heather’s novella (I do love to write), I heard the car. Excitedly I waited for them to come in.
With my superior sense of hearing, I also heard my pet exclaim, “I don’t have the keys!” And then a frantic exchange. Finally, my pet said, “There might be one window we can open.” (She was wrong. Her hubby fixed it last time they came down, but she didn’t know that yet.)
So they came around where I could see them from my writing chair. Diane brought up a key and tried to pop the screen off, only it bent her key. So my pet started reaching into her pockets and pulled out a ring of something. Keys, I think. (Get it? Keys? Yeah, well, she didn’t. Read on.)
My pet used the little screwdriver on her key ring, but it wasn’t long enough. Then she used her car key, but it was too thick. Then, as she reached for a third key, I could see the lights come on. When she realized she was trying to break into the house with the key that would open the door, she and Diane burst out laughing.
I kind of shook my head as I thought of a scene from a movie: “I have a credit card.” “No, this lock works on an entirely different (whatever, I forget exactly).” “No, you don’t understand. I have a credit card!”
Hey, it was funny in the movie. And, yes, I admit it was funny in real life, too. I tried not to laugh out loud, though. I didn't want to hurt her feelings because I'm just a nice dog.
The key to her writing success isn't a key, though, it's me. Don't you agree that it's a darn good thing she has me to write her books?