I sat on an ice throne this weekend

I just thought you'd like to know. No, I'm serious. Check me out:


It was a fairly eventful weekend. On Friday, I spent the night at my friend Kathy's house. I took Fritz along with me. I had to be at a pet expo Saturday morning, and Kathy lives about an hour and a half closer to it than I do. So I loaded up a bottle of wine and a chick flick and headed down to her house after work on Friday. Sleeping in a bed by myself every so often is not all that bad, I gotta confess. We drank wine and ate pizza while five fawn Boxers milled about.

Generally speaking, the service at Kathy's is pretty good. She will not, however, feed you breakfast. "You didn't want coffee, did you?" she'll ask. I do not drink coffee (one of the few vices I never acquired), so it's all good. I ate the granola bar that I'd tossed into my purse and I was set.

Fritz and I arrived at the pet expo at around 8:45 a.m. This was a huge event, with at least a hundred exhibitors. There were rows and rows of rescues like ours, pet treat bakeries, pet supply places, etc. I bought a four-dollar soda (and that was for the SMALL) and a fairly inexpensive pet bed (a lot of times you can get wholesale prices at these huge expos). Then I spent the rest of the morning tethered to Fritz and answering questions about Boxers and rescue. Most of what we hear is more akin to comments than questions: he must smell my dogs, I had a Boxer when I was a kid, we used to breed Boxers, Boxers have a face only a mother can love. (Dude, he's standing RIGHT HERE.)

Fritz did really well. I was so proud of him. He stood in front of our booth while throngs of people petted him and fed him treats. We left just after 1 p.m. Our shift was over and Fritz was pooped. Usually it is my luck that I manage to bring along a foster dog who seems innocuous enough around the house, but who loses his/her mind in public. Fritz, however, was a wonderful ambassador for the rescue and for the breed itself. I was hoping he would catch someone's eye but at his age I have to be realistic - I know he will be tough to place.

When I got back home, P and I decided to take the kid downtown to check out a winter festival. He had dressed her that morning so I decided to spruce her up and fix her hair. "But Father already dood it!" she protested.

I nodded. "Yeah, I know."

We didn't stay too long at the festival. We checked out some ice sculptures, loitered in a candy store, and listened to a band for a while. And, of course, sat on the ice throne.

Today I took the kid to church and then to a dog show (this one was for conformation, not a pet expo like I attended yesterday). I've never gotten into the conformation world, but it's fun to go and hang out. I was still working on scrubbing off yesterday's hand stamp, and now I've got another one on top of it. We shared a Maui Wowi (I saw that there was an option to have a shot added for a few extra bucks and I am happy to report that I gave it only the briefest consideration) and watched the fancy dogs do their thing. I thought of my crew at home: Giddy with his gimpy leg (broken long before he became my dog), Brin with her droopy eyes and dew claws, and Fritz with the majority of his years behind him.

To top off the weekend, I decided to let A play with her Play-Doh sets from Christmas this afternoon. Now I'll bet you're wondering if I really did have that shot.


Beth said…
You deserve a throne! You're a mom, after all.
Susie said…
Fun times! Does the ice throne mean that you're the ice queen? hee hee

Popular posts from this blog

Life is too short for white walls and self-hatred

Senior Year: The Bittersweet Lasts

Back to regularly scheduled programming (sort of)