Copper is coming


After work, I went to the doggy daycare to pick up Gracie, my reddish brown goldendoodle. I pulled into the parking lot right after a woman and her son, and let them go in first, even though I could’ve beaten them to the door.

“Here to pick up Copper, huh?” asked the woman behind the counter. She picked up a walkie talkie. “Bring Copper out front.”

“Is Copper coming?” asked the boy.

“Copper’s coming,” his mom answered, handing over her credit card.

The machine didn’t work. “Is Copper coming?” asked the boy again. Yeah, I thought, Is Copper coming?

“Yes, Copper’s coming,” she assured him, retrying her card.

It went through this time. “Is Copper coming?” the boy asked. Where the hell is Copper? I thought.

“That’s the third time you’ve asked that,” she said. “Go wait in the car. Copper is coming.” He went to wait in the car, for Copper, who was coming.

Just then the door opened. And out came …

… a black dog.

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