Sunday, August 21, 2011

What Would Emily Post Do?

Yesterday, I was taken for the very first time in my life to the Washington Square small dog run. Oh my effing God! You see, I am used to play with dogs on my turf, but this was like going to a party where you don't know a soul. As you might understand, it can be a little overwhelming. Happily, my old friend Buddy was there. Problem with Buddy is, even though he is immensely patient with me when I jump all over his face, he really likes Enchilada better (he thinks she's got treats). So the moment he sees her, he ignores me. But he is a really cool, wise old guy. Well, he was the only dog I knew in this shindig.

My man Buddy

I must confess that, uncharacteristically for me, at first I was rather bewildered. What was this place full of tiny ass-sniffing dogs? Where were the big dogs? Why? So in order to assess the situation calmly I did hide under a bench for a couple of seconds. Once I realized that in social situations everyone is insecure, I thought, what the heck, let's give this thing a try. I'm an extremely friendly and sociable person. I have to personally greet every dog, human or foot that walks my way. So I got out from under the bench and started socializing (no opening vodka tonics for me, as Enchilada advises when under stressful social situations). I forgot all about my owners (we'll come back to this in a moment) and started trying to make friends. As I said, there was a lot of aimless bum sniffing but not too much play action. There were two bigger dogs who were the only ones playing. I tried to join them but they completely ignored me. Some people have no social graces.

 Can I play with you guys?
There was this tiny old guy whose owner said he loves humans but hates dogs. I tried to have a conversation, but he was standoffish and snippy. There was this really snotty black poodle whose owner was as insufferable as her. What are you gonna do? 

Winston was too busy chomping on his cigar
Buddy's mom (she's a cool lady) was telling Enchilada (who was worried about me being miserable. As if), that I was taking very good care of myself, since I promptly forgot all about her. I am an independent minded person. I am not clingy. I don't hide behind anyone's legs. A free spirit with good manners, if you will.

Hi! My name is Petra...

What do you think of David Cameron and the hacking scandal?
As for Enchilada, let me tell you. First she was saying they should not take me to the dog run because I might catch something (even though they've poked me enough with the darn vaccines already). Then the minute we got there, she wanted out. She liked the dogs, she said, but hated the people. Entre nous, Enchilada is deathly afraid to be confused with a classic New York dog owner, a breed of human who, according to her, is one step away from a straitjacket and a room at Bellevue. She doesn't want to be perceived as the poor old middle aged lady who talks too much to her dog and applies cheap Cesar Milian dog psychology to every canine reaction. Ha!* Too late! 

I did my best.

Being social can be exhausting in New York City.
* Ha ha ha ha ha ha haha haha haha!

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