Chuck Wants to Be A Cowboy

      I blame myself for what happened when we arrived at Lone Pine, California. 

    Imagine a very small town in the middle of nowhere, well, actually in the middle of the desert. Surrounded by the Alabama Hills, whose only claim to fame is that Hollywood used to shoot Westerns there back in the day. 

    We were headed to Lone Pine for only one reason--to stay at the Dow Hotel, built in the 1920's where the likes of John Wayne, and Gene Autry and Roy Rogers had stayed.

    Because I am a big fan of Roy Rogers. 

    I'm not sure how this obsession happened. I remember as a kid that I watched Roy Rogers on TV. He was the good guy and always got the bad guy. He was married to Dale Evans. His horse was a beautiful Palomino named Trigger, who was so smart he often got the bad guy in his own adventures. And, of course, there was the dog, a German Shepherd named Bullet.  

    The show featured a song that went "Happy trails to you, until we meet again . . ." a tune that is emblazoned on my memory. It ran on TV from 1951 until 1957. I must have watched the re-runs. Before that the Roy Rogers radio show ran for 9 years. 

    Roy Rogers (not his real name) was known as the "King of Cowboys". He made over 100 films. Somehow all this information and all my positive feelings got transferred over into Chucky. Not sure how, but it must have in order to understand what happened next. 

    The hotel was sweet. Everything I'd expect--photos and giant poster board images were there. 

    

    Even the cute little outfit Dale Evans used to wear.

     The entire place made us feel a little goofy. Dan couldn't resist pretending he was a cowboy himself and posed with Roy, with John Wayne looking on. Some of the crazy stuff you do on vacation!

    We were assigned our room and my only disappointment was that we weren't given the Roy Rogers room, which we passed on the way to our room. 

    "It is reserved," they said. 

    "Can we, at least, peek inside?"

    "Sorry."

    I was disappointed. although I don't know what I expected to see in there. Roy Rogers, himself? (With Dale and Trigger and Bullet.)

    We settled into our small room (I suspected all the rooms were on the small side or quaint as they advertise in the literature). 

    We left Chucky snoozing on the bed, with plenty of food (of course), and we went across the street to this wonderful mom and dad like cafe for dinner. The food was down home and delicious. Afterwards, we took a long walk up and down the Main Street, returned to the hotel, and came back to an empty room. 

    What?

    How the heck could that rascal cat have gotten out of this room. One door only. Locked. One window only. Closed. 

    We both plunked down on the bed. I looked at Dan, and he looked at me. 

    "We have to go over everything we did," I said.

    "He didn't even eat his dinner." Dan was right. All his food was still there where we left it. Stranger than strange. 

    "We both left the room together. He was on the bed. I saw him," I said, recounting my last memory of Chucky before we left to go across the street.

    "But I came back," Dan admitted.

    "That's right. For your jacket."

    "Could you have . . ." I asked.

    "I must have . . . " 

    "And then he . . ."

    "I'm sorry. I was rushing around so much, I didn't even notice."

    The bottom line was--he'd escaped. 

    "Okay, so where did he go?" My thoughts were in a whirl.

    Dan started pacing the room. He stopped. 

    "The Roy Rogers Room," he shouted.

    "Of course." I knew he was right. That's where I would have gone if I were a cat.

    We didn't have far to go. The Roy Rogers reserved room was right down the hallway. 

    "But how did he get in?"

     We were stumped for only a moment.

    "One of the clean up crew must have gone in there for something and left the door open . . ."

    We reached the room. Dan grabbed the doorknob. It turned. We barreled in and prayed we weren't interrupting anything that might just happen in a reserved room.

    There Chuck was perched on the bed. Looking like an authentic 1940's cowboy star. Totally enthralled. In his glory. Minus the hat and boots, of course. I ignored him for the moment.

    "Look at this room." Roy Rogers this and Roy Rogers that filled every nook and cranny. 

    "Do you hear that?"

    "What?"

    "The Happy Trails song is playing in the background." 

    Dan picked up Chuck. "Well, at least you got to see the room," Dan said. 

     "You can hear that song, right?"

     "If you say so," Dan said rather noncomitedly. 

    Sometimes too much of a good thing can actually be a bad thing.  For the rest of the evening I couldn't get that darned tune out of my head.