Tuesday, May 25, 2010

A little bit Danish, a little bit rock n' roll

Next stop:

Here, we were free to roam about without fear of gum-snapping ladies in purple windbreakers stumbling into our photos.

Aebelskivers with raspberry jam. Two words: Yum-my.

I've never seen so many dogs out on walks (except for that time at the outdoor mall in Newport)

Mostly they were small little balls of fluff, but one dog, a long-haired German Shepherd was having a little difficulty socializing.

That is to say, he barked from his toes any time another dog entered his space bubble.

And by space bubble I mean approximately a six foot radius.

A fellow (oblivious) dog owner stopped three feet away to eat his yogurt. The shepherd's owner saw him coming and jumped up to hold his dog's collar.

He was forcing his dog to stay in a sit position (he wasn't harming him at all) and was having to contort himself in a most uncomfortable way. This German Shepherd owner looked just as you might

imagine he would. I didn't see any tattoos, but he looked like he'd be perfectly at home on a Harley (not that there's anything wrong with that).

Mr. O and I sat there dumb-founded as the hippie owner of the ball of fluff dog stood his ground.

Finally his girlfriend suggests they should move because the shepherd looked like it wanted to eat their precious ball of fluff. But hippie dude resists.

Shepherd owner asks hippie owner very politely (although you could tell it nearly killed him to do so) if he wouldn't mind moving on down the street just a bit - you know, outside the space bubble

And hippie owner's response was I'm just trying to eat here.

Oh, so rude! I think our jaws may have visibly dropped then. And with that the German Shepherd owner says Fine! throws his hands up, taking a break from the physical strain and releases his death grip on the dog's collar.

The entire time the shepherd had remained still and silent, his leash tethering him to the bench. And then he was on alert (pre-kill mode) with a deep WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!

Like I want to eat you for breakfast WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!

I thought hippie owner and ball of fluff dog were both going to pee themselves. Instead, they moved on down the street about oh, six feet or so.

I mean really, was that so hard?

P.S. It took all kinds of restraint for me not to refer to the ball of fluff's owner as Wienie Owner. You should appreciate that.