Sailor here.
This morning Mom climbed out of bed earlier than usual for a StayAtHome Day and sped off to the Farmer’s Market. She came home with lots of vegetables for Zoe and me. Mom said the Farmer’s Market was open early because our town is hosting a street faire and she wanted to beat the crowds. I hope she doesn’t; I am not a violent dog and neither is Mom.
She also came home with a huge bouquet of sunflowers that she put in her birthday vase on the glass table in the living room. Mom says they are called sunflowers because they nod to the sun and follow its path across the sky. I think I will take my afternoon nap on the living room rug to see if the flowers really do turn their faces to watch the sun.
After Mom had put my veggies in the refrigerator, she gave me a quick sprucing up with my pin brush, clipped my leash to my collar, and set off with me by her side downtown to the faire.
Mom says I need some more socializing in crowds. I say gimme hot dogs and I will be as social as you want.
Wowsers! The first thing we saw stopped me in my tracks. It was cement gray. It was very tall, higher than forty Leonbergers, higher than the roof of my house. Best of all, it had dog toys stuck all over it. It also had children hanging from it. Mom calls it a Climbing Wall. I call it a Sporting Opportunity. I wanted to leap up and grab the hot-dog shaped toy that was just out of reach.
Mom said, “Sailor, leave it. Climbing walls are for humans. You can have a chew toy when we get home.”
I followed Mom down the shady side of the street. Mom knelt down to feel the asphalt and declared it a safe temperature for my feet, but she walked in the shade anyway. I liked that.
We stopped at a curtain and Mom busied herself on the shelf above, saying “earrings.” She said, “Thank you.” We then walked to another curtain. Mom talked to someone who smelled like cows and spoke about leather. Each time we reached a new curtain, I sat while Mom smelled with her eyes and I smelled with my nose. I did, however, pull back on my leash and wouldn’t sit down in front of the curtain with dog hats on the shelf. Dog hats are beneath my dignity. I hope Mom bought one for Zoe.
Mom stopped at the police officers’ booth and asked if the Police Department would consider having Dog Days at the firehouse to introduce the town dogs to Men In Uniform. She said she was concerned that some dogs who are not friendly to Men In Uniform wouldn’t allow a police officer or fireman to rescue them from danger.
Mom told the policeman about a friend who had had chest pains and felt faint and called 911. When the rescue people came, her dog would not let the paramedics near her until she told the dog it was OK. The Men In Uniform said that her idea was a good one. They took her name and address, and told her that they’d pass the suggestion along to the Head Canine Officer.
“Gosh, Sailor,” Mom leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Maybe you and I will organize Dog Days and you can be the demonstration dog.”
I thought that was a wonderful idea. I love being the center of attention.
At the faire, I saw many dogs and smelled quite a few. A tiny brown and silver Yorkie yapped at my ankles and wagged her whole rear end. A beagle wanted to run right through me to get to the hot dog booth. Two Labradors drooled at me and wagged with happy eyes, looking for a water fountain. A Cavalier King Charles Spaniel was afraid of me at first, but I threw all my calming signals at her and she began to wag and sniff noses. She was beautiful. I even saw a black and white Siberian husky like Zoe who headed straight for the snow cone booth, dragging his human across the street.
The very BEST part of the day was standing proudly and getting thousands of compliments from complete strangers. A few called me “Lassie,” but I didn’t mind. I like looking like a famous collie.
One nice man smelling like dried rosemary leaves, asked Mom, “Where’s Timmy?”
“We left him in the well,” Mom answered with a giggle in her voice.
People who had met me on one side of the street came up and petted me when we met again on the other side of the street. They remembered my name and told me how beautiful I was and how sweet and friendly, too.
“Nyah, nyah,” I told Zoe when we came home. “I got to go to the street fair and you had to stay behind.”
Mom put me in the back yard and called Zoe to her. She clipped my leash to Zoe’s collar! Then they headed toward the Climbing Wall. I stood with my nose poking through the fence and watched them walk out of sight. With a sigh, I lay down to wait for them to return.
“Well, Zoe may get to go to the faire, too,” I murmured to myself, “but I got to go first!”
This morning Mom climbed out of bed earlier than usual for a StayAtHome Day and sped off to the Farmer’s Market. She came home with lots of vegetables for Zoe and me. Mom said the Farmer’s Market was open early because our town is hosting a street faire and she wanted to beat the crowds. I hope she doesn’t; I am not a violent dog and neither is Mom.
She also came home with a huge bouquet of sunflowers that she put in her birthday vase on the glass table in the living room. Mom says they are called sunflowers because they nod to the sun and follow its path across the sky. I think I will take my afternoon nap on the living room rug to see if the flowers really do turn their faces to watch the sun.
After Mom had put my veggies in the refrigerator, she gave me a quick sprucing up with my pin brush, clipped my leash to my collar, and set off with me by her side downtown to the faire.
Mom says I need some more socializing in crowds. I say gimme hot dogs and I will be as social as you want.
Wowsers! The first thing we saw stopped me in my tracks. It was cement gray. It was very tall, higher than forty Leonbergers, higher than the roof of my house. Best of all, it had dog toys stuck all over it. It also had children hanging from it. Mom calls it a Climbing Wall. I call it a Sporting Opportunity. I wanted to leap up and grab the hot-dog shaped toy that was just out of reach.
Mom said, “Sailor, leave it. Climbing walls are for humans. You can have a chew toy when we get home.”
I followed Mom down the shady side of the street. Mom knelt down to feel the asphalt and declared it a safe temperature for my feet, but she walked in the shade anyway. I liked that.
We stopped at a curtain and Mom busied herself on the shelf above, saying “earrings.” She said, “Thank you.” We then walked to another curtain. Mom talked to someone who smelled like cows and spoke about leather. Each time we reached a new curtain, I sat while Mom smelled with her eyes and I smelled with my nose. I did, however, pull back on my leash and wouldn’t sit down in front of the curtain with dog hats on the shelf. Dog hats are beneath my dignity. I hope Mom bought one for Zoe.
Mom stopped at the police officers’ booth and asked if the Police Department would consider having Dog Days at the firehouse to introduce the town dogs to Men In Uniform. She said she was concerned that some dogs who are not friendly to Men In Uniform wouldn’t allow a police officer or fireman to rescue them from danger.
Mom told the policeman about a friend who had had chest pains and felt faint and called 911. When the rescue people came, her dog would not let the paramedics near her until she told the dog it was OK. The Men In Uniform said that her idea was a good one. They took her name and address, and told her that they’d pass the suggestion along to the Head Canine Officer.
“Gosh, Sailor,” Mom leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Maybe you and I will organize Dog Days and you can be the demonstration dog.”
I thought that was a wonderful idea. I love being the center of attention.
At the faire, I saw many dogs and smelled quite a few. A tiny brown and silver Yorkie yapped at my ankles and wagged her whole rear end. A beagle wanted to run right through me to get to the hot dog booth. Two Labradors drooled at me and wagged with happy eyes, looking for a water fountain. A Cavalier King Charles Spaniel was afraid of me at first, but I threw all my calming signals at her and she began to wag and sniff noses. She was beautiful. I even saw a black and white Siberian husky like Zoe who headed straight for the snow cone booth, dragging his human across the street.
The very BEST part of the day was standing proudly and getting thousands of compliments from complete strangers. A few called me “Lassie,” but I didn’t mind. I like looking like a famous collie.
One nice man smelling like dried rosemary leaves, asked Mom, “Where’s Timmy?”
“We left him in the well,” Mom answered with a giggle in her voice.
People who had met me on one side of the street came up and petted me when we met again on the other side of the street. They remembered my name and told me how beautiful I was and how sweet and friendly, too.
“Nyah, nyah,” I told Zoe when we came home. “I got to go to the street fair and you had to stay behind.”
Mom put me in the back yard and called Zoe to her. She clipped my leash to Zoe’s collar! Then they headed toward the Climbing Wall. I stood with my nose poking through the fence and watched them walk out of sight. With a sigh, I lay down to wait for them to return.
“Well, Zoe may get to go to the faire, too,” I murmured to myself, “but I got to go first!”
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