Lost in Translation

Tiny slips of paper passed back and forth through the slender gap in the door frame at 2323 Barnaby Lane.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you.”

“No, really, thank you.”

“Please, thank you.”

“No, I insist, thank you.”

“No, really I insist, thank you.”

This contest of credits had been passing back and forth for over an hour—a steady stream of compliments and gratitude. The appreciation and acknowledgements were beginning to get out of hand. Francis knew that, but he couldn’t help himself. How else could he repay Rachel for what she had given him?

Rachel felt much the same way, hence the never-ending feast of thanksgiving. You’d think it was Groundhog Day in November, but Rachel couldn’t stop herself—not after what Francis had given her.

“Rachel, please accept this gift as a token of my gratitude.”

“Francis, I simply cannot until you accept this gift as a token of my gratitude.”

“Rachel, please, be reasonable. You offered the first olive branch, so I really must insist.”

“And I really must refuse, Francis. You know my origin. I have to refuse your gift.”

“And you know mine, Rachel. My mother would swat me if she knew I didn’t offer you a better gift.”

“Yes, Francis, of course I do. Mine would do that same, so please, accept this gift.”

“No, please accept mine.”

“Francis, damnit! I’m beginning to cramp. I really can’t keep this up for much longer. Please, just take it.”

“Rachel! I hate to raise my voice, but I simply cannot.”

“Fine, fine, we may as well take a break then, since it appears we are at an impasse.”

“Alright, very well. You have a point there.”

“Wonderful. We’ll regroup in say, seventy-three minutes?”

“Fine, yes. That will give me enough time for a nap.”

“Wonderful. Talk to you again soon then.”

Seventy-three minutes later, a new slip of paper slid out from under the doorframe, tickling Francis’ nose.

Dear Francis,

I’m sorry about earlier. All I really want to do is thank you for what you did. I hope you know that. I’m not trying to fight you, but you know it is customary for me to refuse. Please, accept this small gift as a token of my apology. I hope, at least, you are able to accept this without issue.

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Best regards,

Rachel

With some difficulty, Francis flattened Rachel’s rather long note on the ground and twisted his neck back and forth, gathering all the meaning. After he finished, he took a moment to formulate his reply.

Dear Rachel,

Of course I understand, though that really doesn’t change anything, and now, you’ve gone and complicated the whole thing even more. How am I supposed to respond to this? Was it meant as some sort of trick?

For the sake of this conversation, I will accept your gift of apology as a gesture of good faith, but I hope you know that this does not mean I’ve accepted your initial gift. I’m nowhere near doing that.

Thank you again for this small token, but now I really must insist you accept my initial gift of thanks without hesitation.

Hopefully yours,

Francis

Rachel read Francis’ note in a flash and hissed. “That dog! Why can’t he stop his stubbornness and accept my gift.” She swiftly began scribbling on a new slip of paper.

Dear Francis,

How gracious of you to at least accept my gift of apology. Though I was hoping this would put you in a more congenial mood, it seems my deference has done nothing to thaw your resolve.

As a result, I really have no other choice than to double down once again and insist that for the sake of propriety, if nothing else, you accept my initial gift of thanks.

Anxiously awaiting your response (read: do the right thing),

Rachel

Francis growled and composed his reply.

Rachel,

Please be serious. Your initial gift was splendid, but it was much too much. For the actual sake of propriety, I have to refuse. There is no other way.

What I offer to you in return is, what I can only hope, a semblance of the grandeur you’ve offered me in yours.

Please, please, don’t make me beg. Throw me a bone, will ya?

Yours,

Francis

“Hmm,” Rachel thought to herself. “That’s certainly a change in tone. He seems to be acquiescing somewhat, it seems. Perhaps, for the sake of our relationship, I should do the same.”

Dear Francis,

I understand, and indeed, I will throw you a bone, as you say.

I really don’t want this conflict to go on any longer than it should. Honestly, it is beginning to become distasteful, so yes, out of the goodness of my heart, I will throw you a bone and offer you a proposal, a compromise of sorts.

How would you feel if we split the gifts evenly? One half of mine for you and one half of yours for me.

It seems only fair, and I think, in this way, we can mollify both our prides and prejudices.

I eagerly await your response.

Yours truly,

Rachel

Francis yelped with excitement.

Dear Rachel,

What a delightful note to receive! I think this is a splendid compromise. I say we shake on it and put this nonsense behind us.

Let me know if you’d like to proceed.

All my best,

Francis

“What do you think they’re doing?” Anna whispered to her husband John.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

The pair stood shoulder to shoulder holding their mugs of tea. Strong black breakfast with cream and one sugar in John’s and vibrant oolong with a touch of honey in Anna’s.

“They’ve been like this all morning.” Anna whispered.

“I know. Do you think they’re getting along?”

“I can’t tell if they’re friendly or fighting.”

“Me neither. I thought I saw them trying to sneak each other’s food earlier, but then I realized they were pushing their food bowls back and forth to one another.”

“What? Why would they do that? Were they trying to eat each other’s food?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It looked like they were trying to give each other one their own food.”

John crouched down near Francis and scratched him behind the ears.

“What are you up to, boy?”

Francis moved his paw to reveal a small stuffed mouse beneath it.

“What’s this? How’d you get your paws on this? This is Rachel’s toy.”

Francis barked, attempting to respond, and motioned his nose toward Rachel on the other side of the door.

“She gave it to me!” He replied.

Rachel began to meow from the other room in response.

“What is it girl?” Anna cooed as she opened the door and scooped Rachel into her arms.

Rachel nuzzled Anna’s neck and gently pawed her arm.

“I tried offering Francis some of my food, but he wouldn’t accept it. He offered me his instead, but I couldn’t accept without him first accepting mine. I was afraid I had offended him, so I gave him my mouse as a peace offering.”

All Anna understood were meows and vague gestures toward Francis. She bent down with Rachel still in her arms. Rachel lept down and onto Francis’ back. John was about to peel Rachel off of Francis, when he realized she was hugging him.

“Well, would you look at that,” John said.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see that in my lifetime.”

“Me neither. A bobtail and a beagle—friends.”

“Isn’t that something.”