Normally, I don't make friends on holidays. Spike will tell you about our trip to Alaska, how it was just the two of us, but we kept crossing paths with the same people at different places. Once, in a giant hotel with giant fireplaces and giant views of the most gorgeous mountain scenery you've ever seen, we heard a loud, "Heeeeyyyyy, buddyyyyy!!!" We both instantly knew that Spike had yet again made a new friend. He went over to say hello, and when they asked where his pretty wife was, he looked around to point at ... nothing. I was gone. I don't make friends on holidays.
But I made an exception this time. We didn't actually travel anywhere on this vacation, but since going for breakfast is one of our Most Favourite Things To Do, we headed out for french toast and sausage, and then walked into our local grocery store. A big one.
And that's where I met Louie.
Louie is the biggest, fattest, softest, most expressionless sheep you ever did see. There was a row of big, fat, soft, expressionless sheep atop the freezers in the frozen food aisle, a whole row of them gazing soberly at the world around them. I took one look and burst out laughing. We turned around, and there they were at eye level. Spike watched me happily squeeze one of them, and promptly bought his all-grown-up, career-focused, academically-adventurous wife a plush toy.
I love him. The sheep, I mean. Of course, I love Spike too, but that isn't news.
On our way out, Spike asked me what I was going to name him. I hadn't decided yet. "Right turn, Clyde," he said absently, which is his usual way of saying, "Let us turn to the right together in order to exit this store." Except he turned left and walked away as he said it. I chased after him, and said, "What the heck? You turned left! Maybe you meant to say, 'Left turn, Louie???'"
He paused.
"You should name the sheep Louie," he said.
And he was right.
You'll likely be seeing more of Louie in the weeks to come. He makes me laugh. You're gonna love him.
