Carmon

For years I've been flying in a little Cessna nine passenger, two engine prop plane on Scallop Airlines from Lobster City to Haddock Island off the New England coast. Whenever I get to the island, I am met at the small terminal patio by Goldie, the golden retriever, the unofficial island airport greeter.

Tail wagging, hips swinging back and forth, mouth busy with kisses, she is an equal opportunity greeter. Everyone gets the same joyful greeting. She has to touch everyone, smell everyone, let them know they are welcome. As the passengers wait for their luggage to be unloaded, she makes sure they know she's there by schmoozing and sucking up to everyone.

After passengers get their luggage, she accompanies them to the front door where they are met by taxis, friends, relatives, or lovers. She is one of the great actresses of this generation. Stella Adler would have been proud.

But it is not the arriving passengers that she is most fond of. It is the departing passengers. Why? Because they may have food with them, or they may use the vending machines. She keeps a close eye on the vending machines. Not the soda or coffee machines, but the snack machine with the packages of candy, cookies, chips, cracker sandwiches, other kinds of goodies. If someone heads toward the snack machine, she dutifully follows. Then she waits. If they sit down to consume their snack, she sits and watches. Its an unblinking, uncompromising stare as the passengers eat. Occasionally shell raise a paw. She never barks. I have never heard her bark in all the years I have known her. Of course, little kids are easy targets because they have a habit of dropping their food. And they are always unusually generous. Feeding animals is instinctive with kids.

One day I was very early for my flight. I had nothing better to do so I headed for the vending machine. Goldie hung on my heels. I bought a package of potato chips. It came down the chute and went flying across the floor. Fool that I am, as I started to retrieve the bag, I inadvertently stepped on it. All over the carpeted floor went pieces of potato chips that Goldie quickly scooped up, dividing the cellophane wrapper from the food morsels.

She never forgets which people fed her in the past. While she was chomping on my chips, she looked up at me, smelled my denims and trainers. She never forgot who provided the banquet. Ever after whenever I entered or left the terminal she would follow me to see if I approached the vending machine.

Sometimes the Cessna had empty seats. One day I was the only passenger. I learned years ago that Goldie belonged to Danny, one of the pilots for the trunk airline, or more probably Danny belonged to Goldie. She usually made at least one trip a day from Haddock Island to Lobster City. It depended on whether there were empty seats going and coming.

In was in my first year of flying Scallop Air. I was heading back to Lobster City. Danny was the pilot. I boarded the plane and right behind me bounding up the steps was Goldie. She went up to the front and jumped into the co-pilots seat. Danny strapped her in. I was sitting behind Danny and diagonally across from Goldie.

Danny turned to me, I hope you dont mind if Goldie is the co-pilot for today, She loves to fly at least once a day, and I take her along if were not busy. She loves any vehicle that moves. Cars, boats, ski mobiles, planes.

I quickly assented. You never saw a more intent passenger than that dog. She loved looking out the window at the ocean below. I must say she never even glanced at the instruments. She flew by the seat of her pants. (Pants. Get it?) She loved the take-off and the landing.

When we got to Lobster City she stayed on the plane when I deplaned, ready for her return flight. Once in a while, Danny said, he would take her into the terminal, but the smell of hot dogs and pretzels was too enticing for her.

Danny told me that one elderly lady was shocked to see Goldie sitting in the co-pilots seat, but he reassured her. Dont worry. She has her pilots license.

I got into the habit of carrying dog biscuits to the airport whenever I took off or landed at Halibut Island. Id give her a biscuit, shed wag her tail wildly and give me a kiss.

Something I learned from Goldie and other dogs. They have no concept that human beings or other dogs for that matter take up space. When I enter the terminal for a departure, she will walk with me to see where I am going to sit. Before I have a chance to sit, shell jump up on the chair and wait for me to sit down. Where? Shes a big dog and takes up all the room. Am I supposed to sit on her non-existent lap?

At night, when I feel the call of nature and get up, my own dogs move over to where I have been lying and leave no room for me. They, of course, want me to come back and join them, but they leave no room.

I yell, Move over. But they dont get it. Dogs have no sense of spatial relationships. They arent as smart as some people think they are. Theyre smarter than we are in certain ways, but they are also incredibly dumb in other ways. I sometimes wonder if they have a sense of time since they give you the same greeting if youve been gone an hour that they give you when youve been gone a week.

They do get bored, and they are very unhappy when they are left alone. And you never know where their tongues have been, but I dont want to get into that. Im also sure that the smells they most enjoy when they are out walking are odors that their masters would be very turned off by.

Last week I went back to Halibut Island and there was Goldie at the airport ready to give me a big greeting. If she werent there, Id miss her. When Danny got out of the plane and entered the terminal, he said, Watch out. Goldie is studying for her pilots license, and next weekend shes going to fly solo.

If that day ever comes, I think Ill take the ferry boat to Halibut Island, and leave the flying to you. Go Goldie.

John (Jack) Rooney is the author of the terrorist thriller Nine Lives Too Many featuring his series detective Denny Delaney and the arch-terrorist Felix the Cat. His latest novel is the suspense novel The Daemon in Our Dreams which is a blend of the naturalistic and the supernatural. His work schedule includes "The Rice Queen Spy," due out in the fall of 2007, a new Denny Delaney effort and a novel about a sea journey from Buenos Aires to Santiago around Cape Horn. He was born and educated in Springfield, Massachusetts (Classical High School and American International College). He wrote book reviews and feature articles for the Springfield newspapers. After receiving his M.A. in Arts and Science from Columbia University, he worked for the Cunard Cruise Lines as a business correspondent at 25 Broadway, went on to serve in the U.S. Army as a military policeman in the Times Square detachment, in civies in AWOL apprehension, and in Vienna, Austria. He still write travel articles including humorous travel guide stories. His website is http://www.senneffhouse.com