I had just fueled the truck in North Dakota and wanted to get back on the road home as soon as possible. The ramp to I-94 east was on the far side of the overhead bridge. To get there, I had to go through one of those intersections with a lot of lanes from every direction. The traffic light was yellow and I knew if it turned red before I got through, I was going to be there for a while. Being in a hurry, I thought about flooring the gas to make the light, I had a clear shot ahead of me, but a cop car in the next lane to my left, made me feel like pushing the matter was a bad idea, so I stopped. The squad car also stopped.
June was standing on the armrest between the two front seats, looking straight out the windshield. Her head was further forward than mine. I noticed the cop was looking my way, probably admiring June. The window on the passenger side of the patrol car was going down, the officer was definitely trying to make eye contact with me.
I lowered my window and said, “Hi!” The officer asked, “What’s your dog’s name?” I thought it was a rather odd question from a police officer, but I answered, “June.” “June?” She repeated. “Yes, June, like the month.” I confirmed. June, hearing her name several times, practically crawled into my lap to see if this stranger might be offering her a treat.
I was trying to push June back to her seat when the cop spoke said, “Hi June. Tell your driver I noticed he isn’t wearing his seatbelt, but if he fastens it right now, I’ll let it go - this time.” I looked at the cop. She was smiling as she gave a couple tugs on her shoulder strap, making her point clear.
I pushed June to the back and told the officer, “June said to tell you, thank you!” I clicked my belt, the officer gave me a friendly wave, the light turned green and she proceeded forward. I’m sure I could have beat her off the line, but felt since she gave me a break, I would yield to her.
June was quick to correct me, scowling, “That is not what I said. I told you to ask her if she had any treats!” “She didn’t have any treats, June.” I assured. “How do you know? You didn’t even ask?” June protested. “June! She’s a cop, not a bank teller. She didn’t have any treats!”
June curled up on the backseat and pouted. “You didn’t even ask...” she muttered. I turned left to the on ramp and continued on the interstate driving home - with a long way to go.
Hours later, I pulled into the Two Harbors, Minnesota, branch of North Shore Federal Credit Union. I was using the drive thru to make a night deposit, on my way home. June went nuts, thinking someone inside the building should send out a dog treat in the drawer. I tried to explain, “The credit union is closed. No one is in there to send out a treat” June wasn’t buying it. “Knock on the window. Maybe they just stepped away for a moment.” She said. “I’m not knocking on the window. It’s almost two a.m. With my luck I would set off an alarm or something. No one is here. They stepped away for the weekend!” June curled up in the backseat and pouted. “You didn’t even try...” She complained.
Every place I stop, June thinks and expects, someone is going to give her a treat through the drivers window. To make her feel better, I’m going to call Tanner, the branch manager, in the morning to inquire, “Any chance of putting some dog treats in with the night deposit envelopes? Asking for a friend, of course.”
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June was standing on the armrest between the two front seats, looking straight out the windshield. Her head was further forward than mine. I noticed the cop was looking my way, probably admiring June. The window on the passenger side of the patrol car was going down, the officer was definitely trying to make eye contact with me.
I lowered my window and said, “Hi!” The officer asked, “What’s your dog’s name?” I thought it was a rather odd question from a police officer, but I answered, “June.” “June?” She repeated. “Yes, June, like the month.” I confirmed. June, hearing her name several times, practically crawled into my lap to see if this stranger might be offering her a treat.
I was trying to push June back to her seat when the cop spoke said, “Hi June. Tell your driver I noticed he isn’t wearing his seatbelt, but if he fastens it right now, I’ll let it go - this time.” I looked at the cop. She was smiling as she gave a couple tugs on her shoulder strap, making her point clear.
I pushed June to the back and told the officer, “June said to tell you, thank you!” I clicked my belt, the officer gave me a friendly wave, the light turned green and she proceeded forward. I’m sure I could have beat her off the line, but felt since she gave me a break, I would yield to her.
June was quick to correct me, scowling, “That is not what I said. I told you to ask her if she had any treats!” “She didn’t have any treats, June.” I assured. “How do you know? You didn’t even ask?” June protested. “June! She’s a cop, not a bank teller. She didn’t have any treats!”
June curled up on the backseat and pouted. “You didn’t even ask...” she muttered. I turned left to the on ramp and continued on the interstate driving home - with a long way to go.
Hours later, I pulled into the Two Harbors, Minnesota, branch of North Shore Federal Credit Union. I was using the drive thru to make a night deposit, on my way home. June went nuts, thinking someone inside the building should send out a dog treat in the drawer. I tried to explain, “The credit union is closed. No one is in there to send out a treat” June wasn’t buying it. “Knock on the window. Maybe they just stepped away for a moment.” She said. “I’m not knocking on the window. It’s almost two a.m. With my luck I would set off an alarm or something. No one is here. They stepped away for the weekend!” June curled up in the backseat and pouted. “You didn’t even try...” She complained.
Every place I stop, June thinks and expects, someone is going to give her a treat through the drivers window. To make her feel better, I’m going to call Tanner, the branch manager, in the morning to inquire, “Any chance of putting some dog treats in with the night deposit envelopes? Asking for a friend, of course.”
To easily share this story, visit our website at fairmontphotopress.com.
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