Strange weather patterns these days brought the dog days of summer about a month early. And just three days ago, I had to wear a jacket to take the dogs outside at night and I guess it’s all my fault because I had to tell everybody and their uncle that it’s the coolest May and June I’ve ever had in New York.
Georgia doesn’t care if it’s upper nineties outside. It doesn’t faze her a bit. She knows green goes well with her, and takes every opportunity to look good.
Brooklyn is relieved that it hasn’t rained for TWO straight days for a change and ground is acceptably dry for her to pee this morning. Of course it’s not that dry for her to stay on it right after. Being a winter dog, this weather is too hot for Brooklyn anyway.
Brandy gets quickly into her stalking position while Foster is distracted by a squirrel up on a tree in my neighbor’s yard. She tried once or twice to play, but it’s just too hot to play. I know when Brandy goes back to the door to look longingly inside, then it’s too hot period.
Upon not getting the expected scratches when he sat down in front of me, Foster quickly gets down to see if THAT would get him some scratches, then forgets all about it when distracted by a bee. His black fur absorbs heat and so his body gets hot really fast. Unlike the others, he doesn’t have the sense to seek out shades and usually lies down under the blazing sun panting like crazy.
At Dunkin Donuts in the morning.
“Can I help you?”
“Bacon, egg and cheese on a toasted plain bagel, please.”
“Any coffee?”
“No, but let me get a medium coffee coolatta.”
“Any donuts?”
“No.”
“So sausage, egg and cheese?”
“BACON, egg and cheese.”
“On a toasted croissant?”
“No, on a toasted plain BAGEL!”
“What kind of bagel?”
“PLAIN!”
“And a small coffee?”
“NO! MEDIUM COFFEE COOLATTA!”
At Subway in the afternoon.
Mr. Babu: “Yes?”
Me: “Roasted chicken breast on a whole wheat, please. six inch.”
Mr. Babu: “What kind of bread?”
Me: “Whole wheat”
Mr. Babu: “A foot long?”
Me: “No, six inch.”
Mr. Babu: “You don’t want a foot long?”
Me: “NO. I. Want. Six. Inch.”
Mr. Babu: “What kind of meat?”
Me: “Roasted chicken breast”
Mr. Babu: “Cheese?”
Me: “No cheese.”
Mr. Babu:”No cheese?”
Me: “No. Cheese!”
Mr. Babu: “Lettuce and tomato?”
Me: “Just lettuce, no tomato.”
Mr. Babu starts putting sliced tomatoes on the sandwich.
Me: “I said NO TOMATO.” (Looks around for the candid camera.)
Mr. Babu: “No tomato?”
Me: “NO. NO TOMATO.”
Mr. Babu: “Lettuce?”
Me: “Yes, please.” (Waits until he’s done with the lettuce part.)
Me: “Onions, please.” (Waits until he’s done with onions part.)
Me: “Pickles.” (Waits until he’s done with the pickles part.)
Me: “And jalapeños, please.”
Mr, Babu: “Hot peppers?” (Because we all know when somebody says jalapeños, that person needs to be informed that jalapeños are hot peppers, you see.)
Me: “Yes.” (Waits until he’s done with HOT PEPPERS.)
Me: “Honey mustard please.”
Mr. Babu starts wrapping the sandwich.
Me: “I SAID HONEY MUSTARD!”
Mr. Babu: “Oh”
I’ve forgotten that I should not say more than one thing at a time when ordering at these establishments since I haven’t frequented either Dunkin Donuts or Subway for a while. Not that it would have helped in Dunkin Donuts since she kept asking as if she already punched in the previous item. My friend and I used to complain about it because he has the same problem at Dunkin Donuts and Subway and he lives and works in Manhattan while I’m situated in Long Island.
I suspect you cannot work at Dunkin Donuts or Subway unless you are an expert on not listening to the customers the first and/or second time. Or maybe the corporate requires the new employees to be trained to NOT pay attention to the customers; the employees must attend the in-house training class, “How to annoy the customers by not paying attention” or maybe just “How to annoy the heck out of customers just because you can”. Because I tell you, this happens every single Dunkin Donuts and every single Subway EVERY SINGLE TIME.
That’s how he got his name, Houston. My friend Sam couldn’t decide on his name for a few days after adopting him, but he kept saying, Houston, we have a problem, because he was a problem child, much more problematic than usual 2 month old puppies. So the name Houston stuck.
Today, Sam and I were talking about how much Houston calmed down and how strong a chick magnet Houston is. Apparently, more than once, some people stopped to take pictures of Houston when Sam took him to the park on weekends. I miss him. I haven’t seen him for more than a year now. Sam and I still talk to each other since we work together, but we had a falling out, so we don’t hang outside work any more. So I was just going through pictures I have of Houston .
These pictures were taken in 2004 at a dog park in Van Cortlandt park in the Bronx, right after I got Brandy. He was a little over two years old.
When he’s standing straight up, his tail is shaped like a question mark. He’s an enigma.
Sniffing around with Brandy. See how rough Brandy’s coat was.
Handsome boy!
Eeeeehehehehe, you’re too funny!
I’m adorable! Let me bite you.
MJ is supposed to be twenty years old today, the big TWO-O, still a year short of drinking age not that it would stop her from drinking or anything cause I’m sure she started drinking at four. But man, time flies, eh? When I first virtually “met” her, she was only fifteen! But she looked like a thirteen year old until last year. I don’t know what happened last year, but all of a sudden, she started looking like, *GASP*, like an ADULT!
I “met” MJ online, through Petfinder message board. Then I got to meet her IRL, even though she wasn’t all that excited about our meeting, when I went to pick up Foster. We met again when MJ visited and stayed at my house, to take tons of pictures of NYC I presume, because she was bored or something and had nothing better to do that week.
MJ proclaims she’s a genius. I think that’s very close to the truth because I find that she can’t remember shit; I tell her something one day, and the next day, she would not only forget about it, she would not even remember any such conversation has ever taken place. So I think she IS a genius because every genius I’ve ever known is exactly like that. Naturally, I’m very happy to have MJ as a friend cause, you know, it’s a good thing to have a genius or two in your corner for… well, I don’t know, they must be good for SOMETHING, right?
Happy Twentieth Birthday, MJ!
Serious Stuff. Seriously
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