Category: dog park

Just doing my job…

My mom was crazy-busy all day today. She was in one of her rare bad moods. I heard her mutter about juggling copywriting jobs, missing connections, losing things and a bunch of other stuff.

Here’s where I really earn my overpriced crunchies.

If Cathy doesn’t take me out, I’ll drive her nuts. I need exercise or I’ll be so hyper she won’t be able to hear herself talk on the phone, let alone write decent copy.

So we go to the dog park. Cathy always enjoys chatting with Lindsay, the volunteer park steward. “Sort of like the mayor of the dog park,” she says.

We haven’t seen Lindsay in awhile so I greet her enthusiastically while Nathan, a young man with a cell phone camera, recognizes a photo op. That’s Lindsay in her red hat, green sweatshirt and sardonic smile.Dog park with Lindsay

Later, as we walk by Macrina Bakery, we are greeted by a 30-something guy sitting outside in the sun. Cathy recognizes a dog lover so she asks if he’ll watch me for a minute while she goes inside to get something sinful to have with her coffee this afternoon. Naturally he thanks her for sharing me. Everybody does.

“I need a treat today,” Cathy tells me, as we head for the bus stop.

Hey, what about me? Who got her out, into the bright spring sunshine that brought her mood back to normal (more or less)? Who got her into friendly conversations with live people? Isn’t this why Cathy adopted me?

I deserve a treat too. Yesterday’s chewy is history. I’m going on strike…but first, it’s dinner and a nap.

Going to the Vet and Helping My Owner

Last Saturday we went to the vet so I could get updated on my bortadella and giardia vaccines. I need them to get admitted to the Dog Lounge. They’re very strict.

We walked through Kinnear Park and I sniffed out all the crocus and jonquils, along with other scents I can’t discuss on a G-rated journal. Then we went to the dog park.

And on Sunday, my eye started looking a little watery. A greenish dot appeared in the corner. Not a big deal.

Cathy freaked.

“On no. Not another trip to the vet. Maybe it’ll go away…”

But it didn’t. So on Tuesday, bright and early, we traipsed over to the vet. My mom was busy so we hopped a cab. Our vet, Dr Clare Morris of UrbanVet, said, “Awfully red. We’d better do something about this.”

Oh no. That doesn’t sound like I’m getting a treat. Sure enough, I ended up with goop in my eyes.

“Gracie, you are driving me to bankruptcy,” Mom sighed, handing over her credit card one more time.

Actually, I’m just doing my job. If my mom didn’t spend her money on me, who knows what she would do? She’d start drinking. She could get into drugs. Who knows? Maybe she would even buy some new outfits at Nordstrom’s.

OK, my mom falls asleep after half a can of beer. She thinks drugs are boring. Don’t even mention clothes shopping.

But who knows? What else would Mom spend her money on? She hates traveling since 9/11.

So I’ll make sure she’s got a worthy cause. Me.

Happy Weekend…

Happy Easter, Passover, Vernal Equinox or just Cold, Rainy Weekend in Seattle!

Good thing I don’t feel like going outdoors today. Cathy’s bed is nice and warm and I’m not leaving it till I absolutely have to. Cathy is going to the gym, as she always does on Sunday mornings, for the killer class taught by the Intrepid Russian Gymnast.

I encourage this obsession. An owner who’s in shape will take her dog for lots of walks.

I’m already in great shape…and this comforter is so soft…I’ll just dream about exercise today.

Crash! Dog Mom Rejects The “Older Woman” Dress Code

Okay, I am sitting in our bedroom, happily chewing on my mom Cathy’s remaining wool hat. It’s kind of ugly (I chewed up all the cute ones) so she really needs to get rid of it. I am helping.

I hear muttering from the living room. Then I hear a crash. Uh oh. Time for me to take charge.

It seems Cathy is taking a break with a copy of the Oprah O magazine she found at the gym. She’s reading an article about how “older women” should dress to avoid looking old and dowdy.

“Look at this! No baggy sweats! What do I wear when it’s cold? And they’re so comfortable…oh no. This is NUTS No backpack?! Since when were backpacks for old people? I’ve been carrying a pack for…okay, many years. How can I haul around my laptop and my books? Ergonomically?

“And here’s a picture of a perfectly normal, wholesome woman wearing jeans and a nice turtleneck and sneakers. She looks happy and healthy. And this idiot says she should be wearing…heels? High heels? You gotta be kidding!

“And here’s the Big Lie. These days there’s no excuse, she says. Anyone can find comfortable high heels. Hah. My toes hurt just thinking about it.”

And that’s when a recent issue of O magazine goes crashing across the room.

I know just what to do. I go over to my mom and put my head in her lap. I look up beseechingly with The Look: “Mom, we have to go out. Now. Or there will be dire consequences.”

Mom falls for it. She puts on her best set of baggy sweats. She shoves her square-toed feet into comfy, broken-in Asics. She tosses bus fare into the pocket of her orange Nike jacket.

We head straight for the Belltown dog park, where my Mom enjoys talking to the regulars who come from diverse backgrounds: “Jail to Yale,” says Lindsay, the volunteer park steward. Nobody seems concerned about dressing to look young. For some of the regulars, looking alive and healthy is a major achievement, and one I’m happy to celebrate myself.

Twenty minutes later, Mom has forgotten all about the magazine. Now she’s muttering about why dogs have been banned from Macrina bakery so we can’t just pop in on the way home.

Yes…I have to ride naked.

My mom, Cathy, doesn’t mind spending money on me. She’ a very generous owner. I get trips to the dog park and outings with my Aunt Sara. I eat high quality dog food (when my tummy isn’t doing the tango…otherwise I have to eat yukky rice). I have a kind vet who keeps reminding Cathy that I’m a great dog. And the folks at the Downtown Dog Lounge adore me. They use me for temperament testing when a new dog comes.

As soon as the weather gets just the least bit chilly, all the dogs in the park start dressing up. They have little coats and sweaters. They look so cute! One dog at the Lounge wears pink with ruffles, to match his mom’s color scheme. Adorable.

But do I have a coat? Ha.

During my first winter with Cathy, we had some really cold days. Brr! So my mom called the vet.

“Does Gracie really need a coat?”

“Is she shivering? Does she seem comfortable? Then it’s optional.”

“Good,” my mom said. “I can’t imagine stuffing her into a sweater every time we go out.”

So I’m the only naked dog you’ll see on the bus.

It’s hard to argue. Cathy is not exactly into fashion herself. Her idea of dressing up is wearing her best pair of shorts (in summer) or her favorite sweats (winter). And on really special occasions, she’ll break out a new pair of running shoes.

The good news is: We live near a wonderful clothing store, Peridot. The young women who work there are dog-friendly. I always say hello to the resident dog, Scout. And they save Cathy’s butt when she has to look presentable. Last week she had to give a presentation and they sold her a coat dress (do I have to say it was on sale?) and told her how to accessorize it. Here she is, looking about as presentable as she gets. Cathy Goodwin Speaking on Copywriting and Networking

Dogs are well-behaved Metro bus riders!

Arf! Gracie here.

Seattle Weekly published an article about bad passengers….the kind who drive bus drivers crazy.

My mom was delighted. She’s tired of all those articles complaining about bus drivers. Most, she says, are saints to put up with everything.

And, she said as she pointed to the article, “you’ll notice there isn’t one complaint here about dogs on buses!”

My mom and I have a little game. When we get to the bus stop on Bell Street, near the park, we go to the front door so we’ll be ready to leave as soon as the bus stops. We wait behind the yellow line and my mom says, “Sit!”

Of course I make a big production of sitting proudly on command. Everybody oohs and ahs.

Did you know that dogs who can do a good “sit” have higher self-esteem than those who don’t? Well, my self-esteem is over the top.

My mom has many issues (from the canine perspective) but self-esteem isn’t one of them. She always says to the driver (and anyone in hearing distance): “Now, isn’t this a well-behaved dog?”

Nobody argues.

Down at the Dog Park

My mom loves to take me to the dog park. It’s not too beautiful for humans. No grass, trees or flowers. But for us dogs…paradise!My favorite activity is jumping over walls. I make flying leaps and twists. I prance around like a little pony. Some people say I’m the most athletic dog in the park.

My mom wonders where I learned to do all this. She keeps trying to figure out what breed made the difference. She wonders if I spent time as a circus dog.

I know. But I’ll never tell.