Patch goes to the CVS

by Gary Catt –

The automatic doors to the CVS pharmacy slid open and closed but no one came in, to the bewilderment of store clerks.

 I was in the store attempting to wring hard dollar cash from the little money robot belonging to a bank I never heard of so, I was fully occupied.

As I tucked my two twenties into my pocket, I sensed I wasn’t alone. Sitting on the floor next to me was Patch, the dog formerly known as Trevor, who now fills the role of constant companion. 

He was giving me that “Hey hold my beer and watch this!” Jack Russell look you get right before he does his dance of disorder, involving leaps and break-neck laps of the room. I scooped him up, quickly. He was happy. I was embarrassed.

 When last seen he was secured in the cargo hold of my Volvo station wagon, which of course was properly vented on this sunny 70-degree day lest some overly aggressive do-gooder smash my car windows.

The clerk was amused as I apologized, Patch tucked under my arm. “We couldn’t figure why the door was opening and closing and no one came in.”

Here’s a tip, if you ever need to sneak into a CVS, crawl. The clerks can’t see you from their elevated perch near the front door. Patch was apparently unfazed by the two doors sliding open and closed like a guillotine on his approach. He barged right in and located me quickly, in a scene curiously minus the havoc he typically creates in other new places by peeing on something like a chair leg, assaulting the family cat or taking a sexual interest in the hostess.

Let’s review how I secured the car before going into CVS.  The sunroof was raised a crack, not open. The front and rear door windows were dropped about 6 inches each to allow plenty of ventilation.

Now, let’s review what I found when I retuned with the escapee in tow. Everything was pretty much how I left it except for the passenger side. The door was now locked but the window was open about 10 inches, not fully open, however. It bore some telltale wisps of white dog hair.

It was evident that he managed to operate the window controls with the vehicle turned off. Volvo says he can’t but I say he can because I tested  it.  In my driveway, I started the car, turned it off and reached across the passenger seat. Yes! The window went up and down.

Patch must have slapped at the controls, locking the door, but opening the side window. Out he went to check on what I was up to. He crossed the parking lot, went boldly through the automatic doors, made a left turn…and found me, thankfully not showing his usual enthusiasm for new and exciting places.

In terms of owner experience, however, this escapade ranks right up there with my humbling lesson delivered by Patch at the bottle return shop after I foolishly left my keys in the ignition.

When I returned to the car after only several minutes, Patch was laying stretched out on the dashboard and all the doors including the rear deck were locked. He seemed so happy, stretched out on the dashboard, pressed against the windshield, tongue out, tail wagging… He seemed to enjoy histrionics, wailing, pounding on the roof etc…

Fortunately, this occurred in Honeoye. A casual inquiry of the teenager in the bottle store bore immediate resolution. “Sure. I have some stuff in my trunk.” Let me add here there are probably few places in this world where this would occur. The front door was dexterously unlocked in minutes. There was a well-earned donation of $20. You got to believe there’s multiple career paths ahead for such a kid.

The $20 was a cheap price to pay to learn forever never to leave my car keys in the ignition.  Given this dog’s checkered past, I’m starting to wonder if he was less of a rescue than he was an escape. 

Patch? He’s still learning. Take the other day.  After he emptied my dirty clothes hamper to make a nest, he learned that Sunday’s letter of the day, “U,” had three friends “S”, “O” and “B”.

See a previous piece on the misadventures of Patch at: www.owllightnews.com/travis-secret-agent-dog/