The strong winds today created hundreds of mini trash tornadoes and jostled huge signs hanging overhead. Some of my pups thought it was the apocalypse and stuck close to me (everyone but Jackson), and others took it as a challenge and chased every piece of flying debris and barked at dangling billboards (Jackson!). No pics of those moments, unfortunately, I was busy making sure no one’s eye was impaled.
The nice people at the Van Leeuwen Ice Cream truck always offer a teensy bit of vanilla to pups of patrons. And Yoyo looks like ice cream, so it’s fitting.
Candy and Yoyo love surprise visits from Jason (my husband) because his pants are always dirty and they know they can jump on them.
This is what happens every day when we round the corner of 22nd and 7th. Summer didn’t care about the puppies on the other side of the glass until she realized she was free and they weren’t. Now she taunts them. Jackson can’t be bothered with youngsters since he’s a big boy now (that sounds ridiculous but it’s really how he acts), and instead wanted to play with the ladies at OMG Jeans who were clapping and dancing to “Girl On Fire.” Then they ran because some people think Summer is a polar bear.
Ke$ha usually thinks it’s lame when street musicians start playing “How Much Is That Doggie In The Window” when she walks by, but she has the decency to stop and listen to the handicapable guitarist’s rendition every time.
It snowed, then hailed, then rained today, which was the worst possible order since the only good thing about snow is playing in it, and the hail and rain didn’t give it a sticking chance. They instead turned it into a mucky, brown slush, perfect for embedding itself in freshly groomed paws.
Poor Jackson and Summer, who always sit so nicely at intersections and look up at me to see if they’re getting treats, were being pelted in the eyes by the hail. Thanks for the negative reinforcement, Mother Nature.
Candy and Yoyo enjoy yucky days, but only because they get dried off at the end. They’re both extremely competitive for attention, and the towel seems to have some weighty significance in their world because whoever is having his or her turn in it acts like they’re being crowned with a bacon tiara. Candy gets on her back and lounges like Cleopatra while I rub her tummy, and Yoyo licks her face while whining in protest. He’s more sheepish about enjoying his spa time and just looks down while licking his lips slowly.
Rocky and Bullwinkle are famous for hating precipitation. Rocky covers himself with his blanket and hides. They both try to get away with a quick tinkle and then point emphatically back at the door. Rocky’s sideways glare and strong-arm sum it up.
Emma is quiet and mild in manner, but that’s not to say she’s boring. If she were human, she would read lots of Jane Austen and pick nosegays of wildflowers daily. There’s no way she could not be romantic with those eyelashes.
Bullwinkle prefers rolling in sunny park grass. It’s illegal for dogs to walk on all the lawns on the Chelsea piers, and men in blue coats will actually ticket you if they catch you. We think that’s bogus (I understand not wanting them to trample on and destroy it, and I absolutely support not allowing them to eliminate on it since that’s unsanitary for people and children, but an innocent roll or two? It’s not like they’re carrying Ebola!), so he still gets his chlorophyll fix when we’re feeling rebellious.