Tux got his first fan mail today. A woman dropped a line to say how much she enjoyed reading about him. I told him he’d gotten fan mail. Once he understood what it was and its implications, he was positively strutting around the house while his sister, Grace, and I rolled our eyes heavenward. Grace was heard muttering, “Sure, he’s cute, but what’s all the fuss about? I’m cuter.”
Tux finally forgot he’d gotten his fan letter about three minutes later and returned to the seriousness of being Alpha Dog. It was hard work getting fan mail AND being Alpha Dog, so now he’s stretched out on the couch taking a well-deserved (at least in his mind it’s well-deserved) nap in the morning sun. Two fire engines went by and, in his exhausted state, he managed to raise his head to look at me to see if the trucks concerned me or whether we were going to ignore them. I’m sure I saw relief when I didn’t close the laptop. That meant he didn’t need to get excited, either.
A while later, Grace challenged his Alpha Dog status and managed to squeeze out the back door first much to Tux’s chagrin. I heard him ask her, “Who got the fan mail? Not you that’s for sure.” Grace’s retort, as she happily trotted out to the backyard was “Fan mail, schman mail, who cares?”
What will you do when you get your first fan letter? Will you strut around like a peacock or will you take it in stride? Will your ego run away with itself proclaiming the next best seller is yours? Or will you, after doing a deserved happy dance, be like Tux forget about the letter and return to your job?