Last night around 3:30, Parker whined at me and nosed me. Given the hour, this meant something important. I found pants, shoes, a sweatshirt, a coat, then got my keys from their usual spot.
Parker took about 5 minutes to sniff out the best patch of mud on which to make his after-hours deposit. After cleaning it up, I took him back to my building, reached into my jacket, and pulled out the keys to my other apartment.
At this point I said a bad word. Then I calmly told Parker this was his fault. He licked my nose.
Maybe a New Yorker would have handled this differently, but I figured, there are a few early risers in the building, how long could I have to wait?
Two hours. I must have nodded off because it seemed like only 90 minutes. In the cold. On the floor.
At least I was inside.