My Dog, Your Commodity
Yesterday, Gregg took me down to Balboa Island for lunch, and we stopped, for an hour, at Newport's Fashion Island mall on the way back.
Lucy has been all over New York City, Los Angeles, and Paris, but she's never garnered the kind of attention she did there -- and it wasn't positive. Where, in cities, people are content to coo or appreciate her from afar, many people there seemed to want a piece of her -- adults, who grabbed at her without asking while she was in my arms or on my shoulder, and children, many of whom ran at her or tried to chase her. Okay, so she's cute, but if you grab her without asking me, there might be some biting involved. Of course, she'd never bite you -- but I might. And I just went to the dentist and had my teeth sharpened, so watch out!
Lucy loves attention -- to a point. And at a certain point -- after about 45 minutes there, she'd reached it. Gregg was reading on a bench while I went to Lululemon Athletica to see if they had any running tops on sale.
After we came out of Lululemon, and had yet another encounter with roaming toddlers running at her while she was trying to pee, it was time to get out of there. I picked her up, and I was murmuring something soothing to her when a purposeful hard-faced blonde, probably in her early 30s, marched toward me, followed by her dark-haired girlfriend. "Can I see your dog?" she asked/demanded.
I demurred. "Sorry, but she's really had too much attention today...kids chasing her all day...she's a little upset. Nothing against you, but she just needs to be alone for a little while."
The woman snarled at me (memory of exactly what fails me, but it was something indicating that she felt entirely entitled to do whatever the hell she pleased regarding my dog)...then called me a bitch! And scurried away.
Not so fast, chickie! Being me, I walked after her. Cowardly vulgarian that she was, she ducked into a restaurant...RD something. I couldn't follow because I had Lucy, and nothing to hide her in, but her friend was still outside, clearly embarrassed by the other girl's behavior, and apologized for her. I explained again, that Lucy was just over the top in terms of human attention -- and what's with the blonde's sense of entitlement? I mean, come on, I said about Lucy: "She's a little animal, not a zoo!"
Pretty disgusting, huh? Well, I know Lucy can make it on 42nd Street, but a mall in the wilds of suburbia? It's a killer! What's with these people? Do they not get out much? Why did so many of these people feel entitled to have a piece of my very, very tiny little dog?
I know this place too well. Café R&D would be the hiding place. Fascist Island is a world unto itself, with dogs viewed primarily as status symbols. A smart cute fashionista dog (brains and beauty), like Lucy, is prime pickin's for the plastic peroxide crowd. Count your blessings she wasn't molested by an Italian Greyhound.
Doug at August 14, 2005 10:31 AM
How do the Lululemon tops perform in the support department? I have several sportsbras and tops that I like, but am in constant search of something better.
Marebear at August 14, 2005 10:44 AM
They're fantastic...but a caveat: I buy them super-small. If I wouled need a six in real life, I buy a four at Lululemon. Then, underneath, I wear a Lunaire underwire sports bra and a tadpole bra in a small over that (both from title9sports.com). Sigh. Big hooters, when they're real, require some serious engineering, lest one end up with two black eyes while engaged in vigorous exercise.
Amy Alkon at August 14, 2005 11:12 AM
Yes, that's what I am constantly reminding my less well-endowed friends. I have to spend way too much time thinking about my rack... But hey, they come in handy other times. I'll definitely try your tips, though. Thanks!
Marebear at August 14, 2005 12:30 PM
Hmm. Seems the conversation is all about puppies...
In these cases, people who feel they simply must see them feel that way because they don't have any other experience. That can lead to unpleasant roughhousing by insensitive clods, inattentive to the maintenance and special care needed.
I, of course, am no insensitive clod. I am aware that if puppies wish to be seen by me, they make their intentions clear!
Radwaste at August 14, 2005 4:47 PM
Well, if there's any poetic justice, your would-be dog molester will have found a live earwig in her salad at the R&D Cafe, just as I did several months ago when we ate there. (At least the management was nice and comp'd our lunch.)
deja pseu at August 14, 2005 5:59 PM
Then again, had the dog fondler been successful in her quest, she might have ended up with a nasty flea infestation in her behive hair-do. Pet a bitch, get an itch.
Mao See Tung at August 15, 2005 1:04 AM
Yea, people really need to teach their children to not run at unfamiliar dogs- even small, cute looking ones. I have a chihuahua, and I love her to pieces, but she hates children. She will jump and snarl at any child she sees. Kids still run at her, like, ooo, cute doggy. Cute doggy will bite your face off, little girl, so stand back!
Kate at August 15, 2005 3:01 PM
Here's a hot date for Lucy: Sam, the world's ugliest dog.
Richard Bennett at August 15, 2005 3:05 PM
Lucy couldn't bare a fang if her life depended on it.
That is one ugly dog!
Amy Alkon at August 15, 2005 3:26 PM
J'aime Lucy.
Cheyenne
Cheyenne at August 15, 2005 10:17 PM
J'aime Cheyenne, bien sur!
-Lucy
Lucy at August 15, 2005 10:49 PM
I love animals; but with my extensive animal rescue experience, I know that every animal, like every person, is different. I always ask if I can pet someone's animal, and if they say know, I trust that they know their companion animal better than I do. I mean, do people walk up to little kids and squeeze their cheeks and talk to them without asking the parents' permission? That would be a little strange, wouldn't it?
Goddyss at August 16, 2005 12:47 PM
Errmmm... if they say "no"...
Goddyss at August 16, 2005 12:49 PM
I love animals too: roasted, fried, braised, boiled, or barbecued, they're always good.
Richard Bennett at August 17, 2005 9:23 PM
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