"Doggie" tales

During her excellent eulogy at the memorial service Lara's childhood friend Julie mentioned something I hadn't thought about for a long time. What she said made me chuckle a moment incongruously as tears were streaming down my cheeks. She briefly touched on young Lara's obsession with "Doggie". I never met Doggie when he was 3-dimensional. The Doggie I knew was a faded, gray, well worn and frayed piece of thin cloth with a button sewn on it. That was his remaining eye. Apparently Lara had had this (once) stuffed creature since she was a baby or toddler and I don't think she EVER intended to part with it. She could bear to leave Doggie home for a brief excursion like a concert or movie, but if you were going to go any real distance Doggie HAD to come along. Occasionally Lara's Mum would kidnap Doggie long enough to throw the mangy fabric in the washing machine which would put Lara into an anxiety attack ala Linus Van Pelt minus his blanket. In July of '83 Lara and I went on an epic low-budget 3 week roadtrip to California. We rocketed non-stop down I-5 which took 22 hours and left me with a horrific sunburn on my left arm. (no A/C) The plan was to do the L.A./Disneyland/beach thing for a while and then a leisurely drive up the coast of California and Oregon for two weeks. Everything was going fine as we pulled into San Francisco on our way back north. We checked into a cheap-ish motel near Lombard Street and got rested up for the next day of sight seeing. We hit the town the way teenagers with little cash and lots of time do. A lot of looking, not much spending, but it didn't matter, we were having a blast checking out used record stores and junk shops full of curiosities. After hours out and about in the city we returned to find that the maids had cleaned the room. Hmmm....something is not right.... Oh my GOD! Doggie had been left in the bed! Where was he?? In a flash Lara tore the bed clothes off and threw them around in a futile attempt to dislodge Doggie. She fell to the floor, looking under the bed, the nightstand and dresser...no Doggie. The Panic was setting in. As Lara sprinted off to the Manager's office I was already pondering how on Earth we were going to be able to explain what we were looking for? How could we convey the urgency its return? Added to our problem was the fact that our Motel was owned by Chinese that knew just enough English to navigate normal motel business and no more. Even if we could get the staff to understand our crisis how are they going to find this roughly 5 inch square piece of threadbare material amongst 6 industrial size washers crammed with 1000's of square feet of sheets, towels, pillowcases and such? Well, of course they couldn't, and they said so. Not good enough for Lara, she demanded to be taken to the Laundry room. The Manager wouldn't allow it but went back for another look (I'm sure he just thought we were insane by now). 5 minutes later "so sorry". That did it, Lara just barged right past him and started tearing through the bins of laundry like the Tasmanian Devil, and I dutifully followed though I was certain that Doggie would never be seen again. The motel mangager was protesting loudly for a moment but suddenly he stopped and stared at us with his hands on his hips, watching Lara plow through the endless whites completely absorbed in the rescue attempt. It was clear. Lara was not leaving without Doggie. Not if she had to spend a week in that laundry room. The manager could see it. He said something in Chinese over his shoulder and soon our search was joined by the whole motel staff. 30 minutes later an older Chinese woman approached us holding a mangy rag of limp thin cloth. She must have wondered at the crying girl jumping for joy over the return of this....thing. We grabbed our stuff, paid our bill and got out of there and they just stared at us the whole time, completely baffeled. Lara loved that Doggie, and if she loved you, she would never, ever give up on you.