just like I said

I have a small dog with a big name. He's a Cavalier King Charles spaniel, and, yes, he's fancy. The name is hard to remember, so please just call him Sir.

Lucas is, by all accounts, ridiculously cute.* When he's out walking, people can't help but smile--pre-teen girls coo the loudest, but the punks and the grandmas and the toddlers and the homeless and the suits put on a good show, too. When he was a wee-little pup, I used to take him to work with me (thank you, Inc. magazine!). We'd ride the train in to Boston, and by the end of the trip all the conductors could be found huddled around the puppy on my lap. Big, burly men with wicked-pissah accents, they'd fill their pockets with biscuits and argue over who got to feed him each day. Once we got off the train, I'd walk him the 15 minutes or so to my office. Only it took twice that long when he was waddling along beside me, because everyone--EVERYONE!--had to stop and bend down to scratch his head.

Not much has changed since then. Going out with him is like taking a celebrity for a walk--people want to stop to tell him how beautiful he is, how much they love his work. And ever since "Sex and the City's" Charlotte got herself one, people recognize the breed. Or they think they do.

To wit: The other day, we were out enjoying the sunshine, and I could see one coming. You can almost always spot them from a distance: It's not just a smile, but an outbreak of giddiness. Hands clasp the mouth, sometimes there's jumping, often there's squealing.

"This is my FAVORITE kind of DOG," the woman screams as we approach. Lucas, as always, is nonplussed. Another day, another fan--nothing more than commonfolk.

"A Brittany, RIGHT?" she says as she reaches out to touch his head. It's a common enough mistake.

I start to respond with the standard, "No, actually, he's a Cavalier."

"Oh right! A Prince Charles, RIGHT?"

"No, actually, it's King Charles." I can't tell you how many times I've had this very same conversation. It's like I'm in my own private version of Groundhog Day.

"That's right! Just like I said, it's my FAVORITE kind of dog!"

Lucas kept on walking like he was waiting for a better offer.



*The following exceptions apply: When itching his pooper on the carpet, barking irrationally at squirrels and/or other dogs, or whining because the cat is getting the slightest bit of attention.