Let’s say you’re minding your own business, driving “up the road” (as they call it around here) to Houghton on icy snow-covered roads. You’re talking about inconsequential matters to your husband. You’re not really paying too much attention as you pass through Michigan Technological University.
You’re thinking about dinner. You don’t know yet, but you’ll be eating chicken tamales wrapped in banana leaves in about an hour. You’ll savor some yellow rice and pinto beans. You’ll slowly sip a glass of Chardonnay as you look over the frozen Portage Canal.
You’ll feel better than you have all week.
But let’s back up. You’re driving, maneuvering through rush hour traffic on the icy roads. Which is inconsequential compared to Big City rush hour traffic. But very consequential when compared to most Upper Peninsula driving experiences. When suddenly–simultaneously–both you and your husband spot THEM. Dogs! Large dogs! Husky-type dogs! Sitting atop a ROOF on one of those Fraternity Houses!
“Dogs–!” you gasp. “Do you see them?”
The husband nods. You look at each other.
“Photo op!” you say together.
“We must turn around,” you insist. You find the nearest road. You put on your blinker. Wait, wait, wait. Hurry up, traffic! The dogs won’t be there forever!
You scurry around the corner and get in another line of cars attempting to turn left.
“How ’bout you get out of the car and go take the picture?” you ask your husband.
He agrees. He grabs the camera and heads toward the dogs. They are playing on the snow-covered sloped roof (it’s one of those roofs that isn’t at the very top of the fraternity house. It’s a sub-roof. It’s where those frat boys gather in their shorts in mid-February looking cute as they drink beer and pretend they’re in Barbados or Haiti in the middle of a U.P. winter.)
The dogs are restless now. Get the picture! Get the picture! They won’t be there forever, you know.
They are running along the roof, barking. What’s happening? What’s happening?
Ah-ha! A fraternity fellow is entering the downstairs door. The dogs recognize him. They know they’ll be let in an upstairs window.
One of the dogs prances wildly across the roof with a rag-doll toy, shaking it. The other dogs bark excitedly. One of their masters is home!
Our photographer is snapping wildly from across the street. Our driver (that would be the blog writer) has finally turned right into a bank parking lot. She waits for the completion of the photo shoot. For the dogs to be let in.
The upper window opens! The dogs wag their big tails happily. They disappear inside, one after another.
The blog writer and photographer get in their car. They decide to turn right (and then left–further up the road–much easier on rush hour nerves) and head to the Library Restaurant for dinner.
The photographer says, “It really is Animal House!”
You’ve all seen the movie “Animal House” haven’t you? It features some wild & crazy fraternity boys (whom I believe were the “animals” in this case–not innocent dogs.) We watched it ‘way back in 1978…it was crazy.
“We should watch Animal House again,” the blog writer suggested. “For research purposes. Of course.”
The photographer looked askance.
“I don’t think you could sit through it,” he replied. “I know! We could watch Blazing Saddles.”
“I will not watch Blazing Saddles,” said the blog writer. “You can’t make me. But I could watch Animal House.”
Stay tuned to discover if the blog writer/photographer watched Animal House. Or if they simply chose to think of the big dogs wagging their tails on the roof the TKE house in Houghton.
If you can look at a dog and not feel vicarious excitement and affection, you must be a cat. ~Author Unknown