Mr. B-Sighting

My wife is home this week, studying for the boards next month and readying her resume and personal statement for her upcoming residency interviews.

Yesterday morning, we had to pop by her school to pick up some study-guides and stop in the school library to look up some information. Whose car should we see parked outside but that of Mr. B-Natural.

I've long since known that our library was not the only one Mr. B-Natural frequents, particularly on Monday mornings when my library branch doesn't open until 1. We know he goes to the med-school's library and sometimes the community college's.

When we parked next to his car, I knew exactly who I would find sitting in its passenger seat. Sure enough, Mr. B-Natural's dog Bubba was curled up there, the gnawed remains of a Hardee's biscuit resting on its wax paper wrapper beside him. I had known Bubba would be there because, sweet dog or not, there was no way in hell the school's librarian would have allowed the pooch inside. She has enough problems keeping Mr. B-Natural from smuggling his coffee in, let alone having to watch out for Bubba-droppings on their clean carpet. (In Bubba's defense, we've never known him to actually leave any droppings when visiting us. He's a very good dog.)

"Hey, Bubba! How ya doin'?" I said, cheerfully waving to the dog through the open window. Bubba looked nervous and conflicted. Sure, I was a familiar enough guy to him, but I was completely out of my usual "liberry" context and therefore might be considered a questionable figure to be lurking around his owner's car. So while Bubba didn't bark, he also didn't wag his tail or look at all happy to see me.

The wife thought it was sweet of Mr. B-Natural to give Bubba his own Hardee's biscuit.