Taking my dog to Swensons: A memoir

Friday, so many possibilities. On this night however, I found myself on my couch with my friend Nick Sheldon. We played FIFA (I won) and just caught up a little bit. After a while, we grew bored and our eyes glazed over as we stared at the TV. In our dreary haze, Nick said, “Bro, Archie just told me that he wants to go to Swenson’s.”

For any of you who don’t know who Archie Lauterjung is, he is my dog. He is a four (almost five) year-old Black Lab who loves belly rubs and head scratches. He is a very good boy and can be found on Instagram @arch_laut, but don’t expect a followback.

Now part of me was thinking, there is no way I’m taking Archie to Swenson’s; he’ll stain the cloth seats in my car, he’ll smudge up all of the windows, there will be hair everywhere and Mom and Dad would never let me. But another part of me was thinking, he’s a good boy and he’d have a good time.

Obviously, the sensible part of my head lost the battle with the fun part and off we went. With Nick riding shotgun and Archie in the backseat with a water bowl, we were destined to make memories. And make memories we did.

When we pulled in, a runner came up and collected our order. Nick ordered potato teasers and a milkshake, I ordered my usual (two double cheeseburgers with lettuce and tomato and a chocolate milkshake). Without flinching, our runner (whose name slips my mind, but we will refer to as “Vince”) pointed to Archie in the backseat and asked, “Anything for the big man?”

Archie perked up, knowing something was about to go down. I looked back at him, and his eyes were begging for a vanilla milkshake and a plain burger. So in true form, that’s what I ordered him.

We waited for a little bit and turned on the light in the car so we could snap pictures of Archie on his first Swenson’s run. I had never been more proud, on moms. Doing what he does best, Archie drew a crowd. Girls from every school, wanted a piece of my pup. Never being one to disappoint the ladies, Archie got out and was thriving. He walked from girl to girl, begging for fries and pets along the way. When he returned to our car, with females flocking, he greeted our runner with many sniffs and kisses. In return, Vince gave us our food.

Even though I wasn’t planning on getting Big Dog any food, I had a water bowl in my Civic. So I poured his milkshake into the bowl, unwrapped his burger for him and set up shop for my mans in an empty parking spot. He had a feast. In less than a minute, the boy put away both without breaking a sweat. That was great, but let’s take a moment to look back at that light we turned on to snap some pics.

That light would threaten my objective. The original plan was to get Swenson’s with the pooch and get home before my parents. That light slaughtered my battery. So here we are, with a dead car battery, a pooch and roughly 20 minutes to get home. We needed a hero, and a hero we found.

Over trotted a big boy who was driving an F-150 and loved dogs. So the mans (who insisted on being called “Big Nasty,” even though his name was Keith) and myself worked out a deal. In exchange for him jumping my car, he would get to walk Archie around the parking lot until he got a girls number or his food came, whatever happened first. Luckily, Vince came in clutch and brought out his food less than a minute after we shook on it.

So 16 minutes later, we’re finally ready to go home. On the way home, we bump to the iconic song by 50 Cent, “In Da Club.” We pull into the garage, head inside and turn on the TV. I kid you not, 30 seconds later my parents pull in. They walk into the house to the sound of me and Nick arguing about who is going to win the NBA Eastern Conference and a snoozing pup, none the wiser.