Wednesday, March 27, 2013

St. Doughball's Day

Well, I'm only 10 days late. Hope you're all proud. Spent St. Patrick's Day weekend with my little dough muffin, and she was so good.

I've never been to the Southie parade before, and let me clarify: it is no place for dogs. Let's reflect on the horrendous environments we transitioned through:

1. The T: Oh, dear God.

I assume most of you have seen Titanic. There's a scene where the ship is going down, and Rose and Jack look at each other from separate places on the bow with an expression that says, "We're in this together, I feel your fear, we'll get through this." I saw one other dog owner carrying their terrified baby in their arms, and with just one look I experienced the panic of the Titanic sinking.

2. Getting out of the T station:

Endless seas of screaming, wasted college students suddenly noticing that "Oh my Goddddd she's so cuuuuute" in some scrambled cousin of English destroyed by too much Jameson. Then, without fail, a chorus of idiotic drinking songs surrounding us. Oh, you feel bad for her with all the noise and crowds? Me too. But I'm not SINGING IN HER DAMNED EAR.

Somehow I made it to the elevator, which I'd forgotten existed in the T, and through the terror of just one block of W Broadway. Peach and I both ended up panting in a parking lot with (much appreciated) breathing room, next to a building where strangers were peeing on an apartment while the tenants fought back by pouring soda on the offenders. Maybe it wasn't soda, but for the sake of my sanity I'm going to run with that.

3. The pizza place parking lot:

I was able to give some cash to some nice, decently functioning boys outside the nearest operating shop to buy the little nugget a much-needed bottle of Aquafina (she drinks only the finest, duh). She seemed much happier after that, and I was relieved.

4. Walking to my friend's friend's place:

Pretty much a repeat of the T, minus the hot, sweaty atmosphere and complete inability to move. Every 3 feet she had a new admirer. These people were like me on a normal day -- it's like they'd never seen a dog before.

FINALLY we made it to our destination, and things just went up from there (where else could they go?) Peach got to go off leash in the fenced-in, grassy yard and run to her heart's content. She still had the admirers, but they asked before petting her, and gave her her space. She was one happy little lady. I say "little," but that's relative to a woolly mammoth. My arms felt like I'd been lifting anvils for two days after carrying her around for less than an hour on the T.

Peach and her new doughy boyfriend! It was a romantic encounter of epic snortiness.

Tuckered out and snuggling with Dan on the T ride home.

On the way home, my friend Dan had to hold her for 5 minutes at Park Street while I ran upstairs to use the bathroom. She's a dude magnet when she's with me, and it damn sure works the other way around. In Dan's words, "That dog did more work in 10 minutes than I've done in my entire life."

Her mom said she snored the whole car ride home.

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