Sad dog and suitcases

As the week progresses, Ben is getting sadder and sadder.

There are suitcases on the guest room bed, and we are filling them up with the things we'll find most handy for a wedding weekend in Las Vegas.

Ben doesn't like suitcases.

They fill him with uncertainty: Are you LEAVING me?? Do I have to RIDE in the car for a million hours? Am I going some place where leashes are REQUIRED? What is happening to my world?

When suitcases appear, Ben kicks into his best worry mode. He shadows us throughout the house. . . he plops down loudly and reproachfully on the floor -- a precise three feet away -- if we take a minute or two to watch television or work on the computer. . . he fixes us with deep, inquiring, piercing stares, plumbing the solutions to the Mysteries of Life -- or at least why his Two-Legged People behave the way they do.

(Oh wait. He does that, regardless of suitcases.)

And, then, the stink eyes set in. Here's Poor Pitiful Pearl at his finest tonight. It will only get worse over the next 24 hours. (Note: All are SOOP -- straight out of the phone -- hence the varying quality.)

And just to rub things in, I leave you with this image one more time. Welcome to our world.

Is this wedding weekend worth the canine guilt? Absolutely. A boy young man we coached and shared in the many vagaries of youth is getting married. He is a our unofficial third son -- and it is a privilege to be part of this next stage of his life.

Score card: The groom is third going left to right -- the one with the bowl cut.
Oh wait. They all have bowl cuts.
Two of this three best men are pictured here as well,
the first two left to right.
That would be our Number 2 Son sporting the
Pop-eye the Sailor Man look

Will Ben be sad while we're gone? Maybe a little, but there are good things coming his way. He spends a couple days with his most favorite family (aside from us I hope) and then goes to The Lake for the weekend. I see many walks in Ben's future.

To be continued.