Life of the Party
To celebrate the end of his first week in captivity (I haven’t made any fatal mistakes — yet), tonight we took Barry to Mardi Gras to see a raucous parade and meet Crash Davis. And it didn’t take long before I learned an invaluable lesson: If your goal is to acquire a lot of beads you don’t need to be a woman with a raised top. No. You can accumulate them quickly by being alongside the most adorable four-legged creature in the French Quarter.
Barry was so adept at attracting the eyes of the tossers — those costumed float riders who throw beads and other stuff to clamoring hoards who wouldn’t want the crap if offered anywhere else at any other time — that in addition to the gaudy necklaces he scored a much-coveted stuffed animal and a Frisbee.
My boy turned heads up and down Canal Street. The ladies, especially, swooned. One even stopped us so she could take Barry’s picture to show a friend later. Though, undoubtedly, she was drunk.
Another grabbed her boyfriend’s arm. “Look at that puppy!” The boyfriend replied with a straight face: “He’s not real.”
Oh yeah, then who has been soiling our living room with urine?
This post was added on Saturday, February 02, 2008 by Tom Swift at 09:29 and is filed under Dog Days.
"Any idiot can face a crisis. It's day to day living that wears you out." -Anton Chekhov
