I have to be quiet right now.
I don't want to distract the goings on here in my back yard.
I'm sitting here on my deck in the sunshine of the last Saturday in November – and it's cold.
I wouldn't be here if I had the choice.
But I'm a chaperone right now.
"But Fred, I thought your little girls are seven and eight?"
It's not my daughters – it's my beautiful and faithful black lab Suzy.
She's on a date.
The lucky boy is a two year old golden lab stud named Samson. And he's quite the looker.
He's got papers. A pedigree.
Suzy only has a smile, a wink, and a handshake from a farmer in the county for credentials.
You see, we are hoping that Suzy can have puppies.
This is the weirdest date I have ever chaperoned. There is a whole lot of bum sniffing going on – followed by this mammoth of a lab pooping all over my back yard – and peeing to mark his territory.
And Suzy, my beloved best friend is acting like a little slut. And I am encouraging it. If find myself holding Suzy still so Samson can have a better sniff – and saying horrible things to him like "See that Samson? What's that eh boy?".
But my encouragement isn't working.
This is their third "date".
They have come close a couple of times, but poor Samson, the stud extraordinaire, seems to be missing a key talent for recognizing opportunity.
After the last two dates were over, and Samson went home, she lied in the corner of the living room and just sulked – like the girl nobody wanted to dance with.
Right now they are getting close, but they are running out of time. I would imagine that her owner's – Graham and Rene – are nearing the time to pick up Sampson and take him back home.
I sure would like to tell them the good news – but so far – the relationship between Suzy and Sampson is only a platonic one.
Best friends – but not romantic friends.
Perhaps next time Suzy should maybe work a little harder – a little make up or perfume – maybe something a little slinky to send the message.
Right now all she is wearing is her red collar. But then that is all Suzy ever wears.
Perhaps I should take Samson for a walk, and have a little man-to-man with the pup. Explain that under normal conditions I would be grateful for his gentleman-like behavior, but that this is different, and I am actually rooting him on.
I feel like a pervert out here watching.
But we have to know if the deed is done. There are financial obligations associated to a successful outcome to this transaction. There is no room for supposing – or wondering.
What if the deal were done and six weeks later Suzy had malamute pups?
I could just see the small claims court on the television for that one.
"Mr. Brill, please state the Nature of your case."
"Well your honor, we paid for lab puppies, but instead we got malamutes! We demand a refund of our stud services"
"Please elaborate", would say the dignified and honorable judge.
"We paid a sum for this dog over here you honor to do the nasty with my faithful black lab Suzy"
"That's not a malamute?" would say the honorable judge.
"Your honor, Mr. Brill paid us for a service performed by my amazingly handsome stud Samson here" would counter-point our new friends Graham and Rene.
"He still doesn't look like a malamute", would reply the honorable judge.
"The malamute lives next door", I would reply. "It would seem .."
"I think I can deduce for myself what indeed it would seem, Mr. Brill", would shout the honorable judge. "Did Samson and Suzy ever actually do 'the nasty'?" – of course the courtroom would snicker.
"We think so, your honor!", I would say.
"We don't know for sure", would say Graham.
"He doesn't look like a malamute", would say the judge. "Case dismissed!"
So I kind of have to watch.
It's almost like Samson is just too nice. He kind of wants to, but he doesn't want to give Suzy a bad reputation.
But that malamute next door can't be trusted!