We walk dogs!

Kim or Matt related , This deserves its own category November 24th, 2006

Matt and I are in Fresno for Thanksgiving, and yesterday we ate lunch at Auntie Marge’s house. We went over early, bearing a turkey (courtesey of Auntie Ellen) and my father (for his carving abilities). Approximately thirty seconds after we stepped into the house, Auntie Marge asked, “Do you want to see really cute dogs?” while digging through her desk for something. We say sure, and she straightens up with a garage door opener. “Do you want to walk them, too?” she then asks. “You have to push one of them in a buggy.” We’re already out the door, so of course we agree.

The dogs are very cute, and very friendly, and despite my fears when we saw the extend-o leash, the dog that walks doesn’t pull too egregiously. We set out on our walk at 11:15. And promptly got lost.

Eventually, we emerge on Fruit, which is the next major street east (or west, I don’t really know) of where my aunt lives. Realizing that we’re hoplessly lost, we stop and ask random people in their front yard for directions. Based on those directions, we arrive back at Auntie Marge’s. . . at 12:15. My dad has sent my mom out in the car to look for us (unsuccessfully). She must have just gotten back, because there’s a greeting party waiting for us. Everyone was most amused by our travails. Whatever, we’re back now.
Gawk at us below.


One Response to “We walk dogs!”

  1. [...] In addition to the horrendous screeching, a disembodied voice occasionally said, “Hello.” It turned out that in a small courtyard at the front of the house, a gigantic outdoor aviary housed a six-pack of parrots.   The screecher and hello-er cohabited with the mumbler, whose vocabulary included no distinct words but had eerily human intonation.   The other three appeared largely silent. Parrot noise was supplemented by a cacophony of barking. Looking around warily, we let ourselves and the dogs in (the note on the door directing us to do so bore the legend “Stop Animal Testing”). When we went out on the patio and looked around, the source of the barking became apparent. I don’t, unfortunately, have a picture, but around the corner of the house, on their own balcony, resided a pack of territorial dogs.   We can see at least four heads poking through the fence, barking madly.   These dogs were of the Bichon Frise breed, like Sugar and Sadie of the Thanksgiving Adventure. [...]

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