Monday, February 21, 2005
How can you be four already? How can you only be four? We can't remember a time without you and don't even want to think about it.
We brought him home with us on the Cinco de Mayo, so that's the day we'll really party, the day we knew how lucky we were to find each other in this big, big world.
Because Heidi d' Absinthe said she wanted to hear about it, I'm inflicting this on everybody.
So blame her, and while you're at it, go praise her mad textile skills.
Anyway, on Wednesday, the 16th, Tahoe, Belu, and I went to a San Diego Gulls hockey game for Bring Your Dog Night. We were really excited about it because I used to love going to Gulls games (holy $h!t about 13 years ago!) and we were going to be meeting up with friends from my old job at Club Pet.
There was a dog section, and it was definitely a small dogs venue, without much room for the dogs to get comfy if they were larger than a handbag. But the kids did all right, with Tahoe in my lap and Belu warming the laps of friends, and later we shared a seven dollar beer and a one dollar "puppy dog." They had a doggy relief area with about 100sf of sod and ten water bowls just outside the stadium doors where Tahoe peed on his paws and sniffed every single water bowl, deeming one after the other "too used."
They gave us a goodie bag for each dog with a toothbrush, dog toothpaste, salmon snacks, and a MuttMittpoop bag (ALWAYS handy) inside. All in all we were enjoying ourselves despite the lackluster hockey skills until a (very staged seeming) fight broke out on the ice.
Have I ever mentioned that Tahoe is very sensitive and hates conflict?
He wanted to get the hell out there as fast as possible. I tried seeing if he might calm down, but the mob reaction excitement of the crowd had pushed him over his threshold, and ten minutes and a run around the concourse later he was still shaking, the all muscles, all body kind of shaking you can see from far away and was just breaking my heart. So we left, in the third period with the Gulls still fumbling the puck around the ice leading 2 to 1 (they later lost in sudden death).
It was fun though, and a mostly good experience for them. I was really impressed that I didn't hear any (dog)fights, nobody I saw whizzed on anything but the piss-specific sod, and there wasn't very much barking.
There was an italian greyhound in the row ahead of us wearing a total thuglife-style down hooded parka tailored to fit. Schweet.
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