I’m not sure how my wife convinced me to take her and our dog, Hershey, to a movie. Actually, it was a drive-in picture show in Henderson. Somehow, she even talked me into driving my brand new car with the plush carpet and soft, leather seats.

I voiced my objection when she asked if she could stick the “I Luv My Papillon” magnet on the side of the car. But evidently she didn’t hear me or pay attention. When I walked out the door, I noticed she had stuck it on the left rear panel just above the gas cap. It’s strange what a man will put up with after he’s married. Thank goodness, none of my friends live between our house and Henderson who might have spotted me sporting that magnet around on my new car. If that had happened, it certainly would have damaged my image as an all-American, manly man.

The movie was a double feature, the kid’s movie, Toy Story III and the vampire, werewolf flick, Eclipse. Of course, that meant I would have to sit in the car with the dog for more than five hours. I don’t mind taking the dog for an occasional short ride in the car. However, five hours in tight quarters with a dog who loves to bark is like sitting through a marathon on the TV show Saved by the Bell, featuring the annoying Screech and his irritating high-pitched voice.

Hershey was so excited about riding in the car that he bounced from the back seat to the front seat all the way to Henderson. I cringed when I noticed the hair he was shedding flying through the car like popcorn in a movie theatre popping machine. I wasn’t sure if Dyson even made a vacuum cleaner strong enough to suck up all that hair.

I was thankful that they didn’t charge admission for Hershey. It wouldn’t have been easy for me to hand over a few dollars for Hershey to enter the drive-in when I knew he wasn’t going to actually watch the movie. Werewolves and dogs may be related somewhere along the line, but I didn’t think Hershey would be the least bit interested in his distant kin bearing their fangs up there on the screen.

Hershey may not know a thing about movies, but he knows plenty about food and eating. The moment we arrived at the drive-in, his nose was fixated on the scent of the hamburgers and hotdogs they were cooking at the concession stand. Nice thing about a dog is that he couldn’t ask me for money to buy him something from the concession stand. If he could, I’m sure he would have emptied my wallet before the first movie started.

Toy Story III was almost over before Hershey finally settled down. One minute, he would be growling at something that moved outside the car and the next minute he would be begging me for a piece of popcorn. Once, during Eclipse, I thought the action on the screen may have captured Hershey’s attention, but he was just focused on the little Yorkshire terrier that was peering out the back window of the car in front of us.

Even though we had driven 45 miles so Hershey could go to a movie, he went to sleep midway through Eclipse. I would have joined him but my wife gets upset when I start snoring during a movie. On the other hand, Hershey could bark his way through a movie, or her favorite television show, and she would smile, and say, “Ain’t he cute.” Man, I wish I had it that easy. Just think, my dog is not even a celebrity, but he’s living the good life. Eat your heart out, Jacob.