Going To The Dogs
“I would never tell anyone about that,” I objected, but she just rolled
her eyes at me. “I don’t care if you do,” she insisted. “I think it was
hilarious.”
Well, folks, since I got the lady’s permission…. It was a little over a
year ago when Maeve called me at my office with the news that her
beloved dog, Seamus (pronounced Shay-mus), a beautiful golden retriever,
had died suddenly. After talking for a few minutes, she explained that
she arranged to have Seamus buried on a friend’s estate, but first had
to buy a doggie coffin at a pet cemetery in Calabasas. Realizing how
rattled she was, I asked if she was going to be okay with the hour drive
on her own. Even after she said yes, I knew what was the better plan of
action.
“Wait there,” I said. “I’m going to pick you up and I’ll drive you.”
When I arrived at Maeve’s West Hollywood townhouse, I discovered we would
have another passenger named Lily, a golden retriever belonging to one
of Maeve’s famous friends.
“Lara Flynn Boyle left her dog with me so I wouldn’t be lonely,” Maeve
explained. “Do you mind if she comes along?”
“If Lily doesn’t get upset while we’re buying a doggie coffin, I’m good,”
I assured and the three of us were on our way. However, halfway to
Calabasas, Maeve realized she had left her purse behind. “I don’t have
my checkbook,” she lamented. “The place closes in a half hour so we
might as well forget it.”
That’s when I came up with my bright idea: “I’ll just put in on my credit
card.”
“I’ll write you a check when we get back to my place,” Maeve said
gratefully. We continued on with our quest, arrived at the pet cemetery
in time, picked up the coffin, and $300 later, we returned to West
Hollywood without Lily getting the least bit frazzled. Maeve gladly
wrote me the check, as well as treating me to dinner at a bistro around
the corner from her place. Three days later, I deposited the check into
my bank account and a week later, as you already know, I was notified
that the check didn’t clear due to insufficient funds.
So, what to do? Of course, Maeve must have been informed of the snafu, so
should I wait for her call? I decided to contact her first. Maeve still
chuckles over the message I left on her voice mail: “Hi, Maeve. I just
wanted to check in and see how you’re holding up and also if there’s
anything I can do for you. And by the way, the check you wrote to me
bounced.”
I wasn’t at all surprised when she called back right away, but what I
especially loved was Maeve’s total lack of embarrassment. In fact, she
was laughing. “I really screwed you over, didn’t I?” she chortled and
then explained how she had used the wrong bank account. “I did the same
thing to my contractor.”
Of course, Maeve replaced the rubber check with another one, which sailed
through this time without any problems. And guess what? I would do it
for her all over again, even if Lara Flynn Boyle’s pooch shed all over
my backseat.
Conversation
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