With the dire threat of weather moving in it was decided that instead of sending us home in a blizzard only to come back a few hours later, the affected staff should spend the weekend. And that's how Hans (weekend pianist), Wilbur (wannabe dishwasher), and I (waitress) found ourselves back in the same room we lived in last year. After Santa's visit I had to change out of my elf costume (seriously) and into my uniform for a company Christmas party, so my day started at 7AM and ended around 11PM. The next morning I was up early and getting one of our small dining rooms ready for a private party due for brunch.
We weren't sure what Wilbur would think about all this but after a couple of hours he got into the swing of things. We're pretty sure he enjoyed a consistently heated room (we turn the electric heat off when we leave the house), and he loved his outside romps with Hans. Wilbur's desire to mark where other dogs have gone before him far outweighed his hatred of the cold.
So, I have to share this one story here. It was on Thursday that I called Hans telling him to go ahead and pack up our belongings and the dog and come to the inn before the snow hit the fan. Right around 2PM, seventy-eight elementary kids had just exited their 'learning manners lunch' in our main dining room when I heard (and felt) something thundering through the room.
I was stunned to realize the thunder was Wilbur.
You've no idea what it's like to unexpectedly see your dog hurl himself through your work place.
Wilbur stopped when he could go no further and then sniffed frantically at the floor. "Come to Mama," I hopefully called. He lifted his head when he heard me and then took off in the opposite direction. Luckily another delicious smell caught him up short and I was able to snag his collar. That's when I saw a perplexed Hans standing at the dining room door.
I think I lost it about then and I won't relay what I'm pretty sure I said (screamed). Anyway, Hans, in the midst of navigating the dog and our belongings to our room, let Wilbur off his leash... and needless to say, Wilbur followed his nose. I'm just thankful the dining room was empty. Imagine the flood of outraged phone calls we would have received from the parents of all those traumatized students!
It didn't happen again.
We finally arrived home, turned up the heat, plugged in the space heater, and threw blankets over our confused pit bull. I have to say, as much as Wilbur may have enjoyed his adventure at the inn he's been happy to once again sleep in our Queen Size bed on the floor instead of falling out of the 'way up high' Double Size bed at the inn all night long.
Contemplating ways to get back into the dining room.