Sunday, April 3, 2011

POV from my cart

Of course Saturday is my day to run errands and such. I get to go with the daddy if momma is otherwise "occupata", [what exactly does she do when we are NOT at home?????] and I actually like spending time with the dad because his boundaries are a wee bit less rigid than the little dictator... aka momma.  With daddy, there is no major freak out if the mulch attaches itself all over me. And there is no meltdown  if I decide to taste something I find on the ground... and he allows for my natural curiosity to manifest and actualize. Besides, you give the man a good full round tail wag and he is good to go and grateful for hours. Momma... she is much more high maintenance.

Anyway, let me discuss what being with daddy in a shopping cart affords me.  My Point Of View- POV.  

Going on shopping trips with daddy is distinctly different then being out with momma. Let's start with the choice of venues.  Daddy's stores seem to have bigger carts, smell of tools and stuff, and be populated by people whose sense of fashion is ...shall we say...  stuck in the jean zone.  But I cannot neglect to mention that just outside daddy's stores, usually there is a divine stench of pork and onions wafting from a makeshift shack.  I do wonder if the onions have to come with the pork thingie or if they are optional. I have tried to steer daddy to one of those thingies, but he muttered something about being too young to die and turning momma into a murderer being a bad thing.  Still, the stuff smells divine, except for the onions and that whole hemolitic anemia prospect.

Once inside the store, JD, The Wendy and I have been privy to a grand social experiment.
We are now wonderfully adept at predicting the behavior of two leggeds when confronted with three Bichons in a colorful shopping cart.

You know how, some two leggeds are huge and have hairy arms and hairy faces and deep voices that make your toes curl in and they are just plain scary looking? Well.  Those big towering  humans are the first to "fall". They approach us immediately and out of that humongous cavern of a chest come this girlie, high pitched voice that is as frothy and light as one of Marcel Vigneron's  spumas... They approach us with such sweetness and gentility that it's hard not to give them a tail wag just for effort.  Most ask if they can pet us. [Manners!!!] And then we get the story.... "I grew up with a beautiful white... Bichon, Maltese... Shitzu... blah blah.... I loved him/her..."  Really sweet.  A puddle of sweet goo.  And there is something quite empowering about being scooped us and held gingerly by a set of muscle that would bend nails.

Next in line are usually children. Apparently they are unwilling tag- alongs to their dad's errands.The site of us is the unexpected bonus that turns the shopping trip into something special. Unfortunately their excitement sometimes squelches any social graces. I am so not a fan of sticky fingers all over me.  And, unlike JD, I am not not a fan of runny noses or squealing little girls with awkward unpredictable movements.  The Wendy and I  have learned to hang back and throw JD to the young "lionesses".  He likes it. We don't. Oh , I must mention, the universal mantra following a petting session with JD seems to be: "Why can't we have a dog I want a dog... I want one like these..." which is followed by the exasperated look and grumbling of the parent.

Third wave of visitors are the easily distracted younger women and older women who are there only because this is a stop their driver needed to make. They are polite, they are sweet, they are quick. Apparently that shoe sale is just around the corner and they are eager to get there. We are incidental.

Now... there is one "type" of female that needs to be avoided.  If she happens to be in your isle, just avert your eyes. She is not someone to waste a single glance on. Her mood is foul. You can smell her rage, resentment and her frustration 3 aisles away.  Lucky for us she is easily identified. She is carrying a piece of paper she calls "THE LIST".  She stops frequently to pull out her cell phone and yell incomprehensible stuff, generally hanging up in a rage and muttering insults to someone who is obviously not there. She waves the list, consults the list, yells at the list. This human looks harmless, but she is a nuclear meltdown just waiting to happen.  Whatever is on THE LIST, is NOT at the store, or there are 11 thousand permutations of it and she has no idea which one is right.  And she hunts down one of those humans who works at the store and she basically challenges him to defend his gender and locate the contents of THE LIST while referring to the list writer with many names.... which would not be on anyone's birth certificate. This human is too frustrated to even notice us. Too bad because she could use the de-stressing benefits of rubbing a belly.  Don't look at me, I am not about to approach her. She scares me.

Now comes my favorite type of human. [NOOOOOOOT] The one who approaches the cart with questions like : "Are you selling them?" Ha..hahahahahahahaha They are good for a laugh. Selling us!  AS if. Daddy is very nice. He does not respond like momma. Nevertheless they do get a lecture on rescue, and the stupidity of "selling" dogs.  It is just a very polite lecture. I wish I had a pocket momma I could pull out at those times and let her loose.

Finally we get our "regulars".  You know, people that we see at the store very often. They know us we know them and we turn our encounter into a social. Always nice to see them. Some have  been trained to scratch the right way and give great belly rubs. Others are now into asking for a Bichon fix. That's a quick pick up and hold and kiss and pet session. Always glad to do my part. These humans respect boundaries [For The Wendy... inside the cart petting ONLY]  and they are nice.

Meanwhile, as we leave, we notice the list lady still waiving that thing around and cursing at her fate...

And that's my POV from the cart. Keep that in mind if you see dogs in a cart, they are watching you.  It's Sunday and I have places to go and dogs to meet, so... later gators



Kolchak Puggle said...

Oooooh, shopping with the Daddy sounds FUN! I've only been shopping with Mama and you are right, the Mama's are prone to theatrics when it comes to staying clean, eating trash and wandering off. Sounds like you got your Daddy trained really well at what makes a rewarding shopping experience. Paws up - and Happy Sunday 'Vie!

Unknown said...

Say Silvie, is this place a hardware store? I didn't know they would let us in! This is great, I can go pick out handy tools for Mom! Maybe I have better NOT go there, if someone approached Dad asking if I were for sale, I have a sneaking suspicion he'd sell me!