This week’s Six-Word Story: “Welcome to Doggie Meet and Greet”
By Bill Quain
I’m writing this column on May 26, the Friday night of Memorial Day Weekend 2023. Late this afternoon, I went for a long walk with my guide dog Trudy. Well, I’m blind, so maybe Trudy took me for a walk! Yesterday the Island was pretty dead, but this afternoon, everyone was arriving. As Trudy and I walked north on Ocean Avenue, deep into the Gardens District, we noticed something very peculiar.
Almost everyone we came across had at least one dog, and they were introducing those dogs to their neighbors, and to the neighbors’ dogs!
No kidding. Again and again, I heard these words: “How was your winter?” And the response was “Great! I have this new dog. Would your dog like to meet her?”
These were people who spent their summers together, living either on top of, or below, another condo. Or, they lived ten feet away from the house next door. They were all here today, the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend, and the very first thing they all did was either introduce new dogs or re-introduce old dog friends.
“Blaine, this is Maverick and Quinn”
Wait, when did dogs get such sophisticated names? It was like being at a Country Club on New Members’ Day! Of course, you have to realize that I can’t see any of this. I’m just listening as I walk by big groups of neighbors. So, I’m doing my best to figure out who is a dog and who is just a plain old person. It was so formal that I started imagining the dogs shaking paws and doing a little curtsy. (Or, do they still just smell each other? It’s hard to say.)
Is a “working dog” socially acceptable?
As a proud owner of a guide dog, I make sure to introduce Trudy whenever possible – and I make certain that everyone knows her status. In fact, a new friend of mine, Brian, called Trudy a “service dog.” “No,” I quickly pointed out, “Trudy’s a guide dog. If she hears you calling her a service dog, she’s going to take offense. Then, there is the whole union thing. If they find out she is using ‘service dog’ in her title, she’ll be fined…”
Who is that lady walking Webster?
Many years ago, when Jeanne and I were living in Florida, we used to come up to Ocean City every summer with our kids. We rented a place on 39th Street, and every summer, a woman would walk this giant sheepdog through the alley. The dog’s name was Webster. No one knew the woman’s name. This was at least thirty years ago, and I still remember Webster’s name. Why? Because he was formally introduced! No last name of course, but let’s face it, a first name is all you need for a dog. When I was a kid, the people next to my grandparents’ home at 1753 West had two dogs. I couldn’t tell you the first names of those people, but I still remember Taffy and Tiny Tim. Well, Taffy is easy to remember, because she bit me. I guess if the neighbors had bitten me, I’d remember their names.
But today, there was a miracle
Now, if you saw those six words above on a Boardwalk bench, you’d probably think, “I wonder if that person was cured of a terrible disease.” Okay, this miracle wasn’t that stunning, but it was almost as rare!
As so often happens when a blind guy and his guide dog go walking in the Gardens, they get lost. (Actually, about ninety percent of all people who walk around those twisting streets get lost, blind or sighted.) Trudy and I were getting hungry for dinner. Since Trudy is a guide dog and has more responsibility than mere service dogs, she has an ironclad contract that she is to be fed at 5 p.m. every day. I was getting nervous about getting her home on time. We came across another couple (yes, Trudy and I are one couple, and the two people were another couple) and asked them for directions. But guess what? The man looked at me and said the most wonderful words. He said, “Aren’t you Bill Quain?” Even better, he couldn’t remember Trudy’s name! Oh, happy day!
How did this guy know me?
It turns out we had both worked at Watson’s Restaurant about 50 years ago. No, he didn’t recognize me from 50 years ago. We had crossed paths last summer. In the near future, I’ll be doing a column about the hundreds of people I met while working at the Shore. For now, let me just say, “Hey Pete, you made my day! You knew my name, but not my dog’s!”
Are you second fiddle to Fido?
Dear readers, it may be time to prioritize things. How about we introduce ourselves to each other, and not just to our dogs? As a way to do so, please consider writing a Six-Word story of your own. I’ll put it on my “Boardwalk Bench” in a future column. Just drop an email to bill@quain.com and put “Six Words on a Boardwalk Bench” in the subject line. Remember to keep your story, advice or question to just six words, but feel free to give me a few sentences of backstory in the body of the email. I know my readers would love to hear your perspective.
I’ll see ya’ in the papers!
Bill is a Professor in Stockton University’s Hospitality Management Program. He is the author of 27 books, and a highly-respected speaker. Even though he is almost totally blind, Bill is a long-distance runner and runs the Ocean City Half Marathon each year. He lives in Ocean City with his wife Jeanne, and his Guide Dog Trudy. Visit www.billquain.com or email him at bill@quain.com.
