Henry Hides my Scarf

"The greatest fear dogs know is the fear that you will not come back when you go out the door without them." ~ Stanley Coren, dog psychologist

I wear a scarf almost every day. I used to wear a scarf during only the cooler months of the year but now that I live in San Francisco where warm Summers are pretty much non-existent, I wear a scarf every day. Good thing scarves are en vogue these days; otherwise, I might look a bit daft with my long scarf wrapped two or three times around my neck in the middle of August. Although I have quite the scarf collection, I do have my favorites. There is one scarf that I received as a gift quite some years ago. I wear it often. It is a long scarf and so it wraps around nicely and protects my neck from the cold and damp fog that hangs like a curtain over the Golden Gate Bridge almost every morning and rolls out like a carpet through the streets of San Francisco. I like this scarf and should it go missing, I would mourn its disappearance.


Brian and I have gone out to a couple of  music concerts recently.   When our boys are left alone, they are generally well-behaved. They do seem to get lonely when we are gone for several hours at a time since someone is regularly home with them day and night. Henry, surprisingly, has the most separation anxiety when we are not around.  When he was a baby, he would chew things.  It was always a frightful sight when we came home to chewed up shoes, books and even furniture.  Thank Goodness, he grew out of that.  Henry is a true retriever and he likes to bring me stuff.  He likes to feel useful.  He will bring me shoes and clothes and towels - whatever he can grab at that moment as if to say:  "You'll need this, Mom."


The other day, following a night out, I was ready to go out the door to work and went to grab my favorite scarf.  I could not find it in its usual place.  I searched everywhere but no luck.  Finally, I succumbed.  I realized it must have fallen off while I was on the ferry or the bus or maybe just as I getting out of the car.  I was bummed out. 

A few days went by and as I was cleaning up the area around "Henry's couch" (yes, the couch is his and he lets you know it), I noticed something peeking out from underneath the cushion in his favorite spot,  and after taking a closer look - lo and behold - it was my scarf!  


Henry must have stolen it the night we went to the Jeff Bridges concert. Did he miss me that much that he needed an article of my clothing near him while I was away?  Or was he being a rascal and getting back at me for leaving him alone for so many hours?  


Whatever his motive, I was happy to have my scarf back.  And just to show him I was not sore at him for stealing my scarf, I let him borrow it.