Nin's Day at the Museum!

Museums are great places to visit and a fun place to work.  It is hard to complain, except during the tourist seasons, when you are going into an office inside one of the most famous places in the world.  My office is the best of both worlds, a quiet office, in a locked suite on a public floor of a museum.  Just close enough to see what is going on in the museum each day but far enough away that I am not constantly bugged by tourist, unless I want to be.  The door to our office suite is glass and sometimes when Steeler and Nin find the energy to play, I will see the visitors peeking in the door as if Steeler and Nin are also on exhibit.  It is sometimes funny to watch visitors watch the dogs play with their toys, silly people looking through a glass door as if they have never seen a dog before.  Little did they know that the staff was looking back at them as if the visitors are the zoo animals on display – after all the dogs playing in the office is something that always happens, right?   

When Nin first started working with me the suite door needed to be “tugged” open, she quickly adapted.  The museum powers that be, had told me about a year earlier that the door would soon be automated so as I saw it, a year later we were right on track!  Opening the door from the museum side to let me in the office suite was easy for Nin, and it did not take her long to figure out how to push it open from the inside.  At first she pushed it open to let Steeler out into the museum.  Next, she realized if she pushed a little harder and was fast she could also get out the door.  I learned about this skill when I was coming into the office, from talking outside in the museum to a colleague, and found Nin missing.  I looked all over, called her name, went into ever open door and looked in every nook and cranny – No Nin!

I started going through the museum calling her name, asking everyone if they had seen a black lab walking herself through the museum (no doubt she would have her leash in her mouth, she would not want to violate any leash laws now).  I was panic stricken and feeling a bit stupid because people kept asking me, “How did she get out the door?” At that point, I really had no idea since I did not witness this Houdini act.  So, I shrugged.   Figuring that she would stay on the first floor, since I did not anticipate her using the elevator, I looked all around through the first floor exhibits.  This still consisted of a lot of real estate.  I started strategically looking to the west side and then heading to the east.  I was getting increasingly more worried and a bit frustrated, I might admit, when out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of black fur.  She, of course, had found her way to Julia Child’s kitchen and had made herself at home in the corner of the exhibit, with a view of the kitchen counter and table.  She was sitting there looking longingly as if Julia herself was going to pop up and start cooking for her and if not Julia then someone should after all, it is a kitchen.  I grabbed her leash and took her away, as we walked out she kept looking back in disbelief as if to say, “No food? What is the point of a kitchen without food?”  To this day, I know that this exhibit, one of the museums cherished, is her biggest disappointment.

Nin on the Move

After that day, I kept a closer eye on her and never underestimated her power to get through a door but I did however, underestimate her need to have the typical museum experience.  It was about a week or so later and I was leaving the office.  It was after hours, the museum was quiet and normally when I left after hours I would let her follow behind me and we “run/roll fast” in the open lobby.  It was a tradition and it had been fun, a time for us to play in a huge enclosed area with a nice, slippery floor.  Most nights I would watch her run around and slid all over the floor before I would put her leash on and head out toward the metro.  But on this Friday, Nin apparently had other plans.  


As usual I opened the door, had her go first and sit while I turned off all of the lights and made sure the door locked.  This went fine.  Nin sat patiently and waited for me.  I was out the suite door and said, “Let’s go…” as I took off at full speed and she came running I headed toward the front of the building and turned around and she was running toward me, however, at the last minute she looked right and took off full speed into the east wing of the museum and kept running.  I went chasing after her calling her, trying to entice her to come back and no…she is gone, out of sight.  I knew which gallery she went into but the lights were off and it is a B I G gallery.  I had no choice but to go and hunt for her.  I head into the exhibit and I see her and watch her go under the exhibit barrier, around the animals by the locomotive and then she jumps over the barrier out of the exhibit through the Center Market and she is gone...again.  Down the ramp, over to the cabin, up the ramp on the other side, by the Woody (Station wagon) and onto the Chicago L train, out the other side and over onto “Hollywood Boulevard,” through the cars.  She has now attracted the attention of security as alarms have been set off, because she is crawling in exhibits under exhibition items, running and sniffing.  A security guard comes over and offers me a hand.  We each enter at a side of the exhibit trying to contain her in one area but at this point we cannot find her.  Then the head of security comes over the radio with the announcement, “there is a dog on Route 66”.  Off we go.  It is somewhere between Route 66 and the trolley car that I caught up to her, panting heavily and with a huge smile on her face.  She had gotten tired and just laid down in the middle of the exhibit floor (safer than Route 66).  Angry but also I can’t help but be amused; I am trying not to laugh.  I know that this is a scene that could only be written for Hollywood or a "Day in the Live of the Nin,"  I keep thinking, “what have I gotten into with this dog?”

Now that she has independently explored the entire first floor of the museum her curiosity is not as great and she does not try to run off but, I am not in any hurry to show her the stairs or teach her how to use these elevators.