Thursday, July 18, 2013

Next there'll be the cat saunter....

On the train back from NYC today, a woman behind me was on her cell phone. She was talking to a friend much louder than necessary and letting her know this: "oh, the dog parade is called off for today."

A pause as she listened. Then she said, "I guess it's too hot for the dogs...."

I turned to Bern who was reading and said, 'did you hear the dog parade was called off?"

She nodded, "how could I not?" she said.

Then I started thinking about 'the dog parade'.

"Do you think they play instruments?" I asked.

"Or march in little uniforms?" she replied.

"Or strut or dance?" At that Bern started making arm movements like someone in a New Orleans brass band or a majorette.

"Maybe they carry flags," I said, and she pretended to carry a flag with a look on her face that looked ever so much dog-like.

"Do you think the dogs refused to march because of the heat?" I inquired.

Then we sat and rode the train and pondered such a think as a 'dog parade' to begin with.

"That's just crazy," I said, "dogs would never decide to have a parade. They'd just all be smelling each others' butts....and besides, they don't have thumbs so they can't carry flags or tubas or anything....."

After Bern did an imitation of how our dog, Bad Dog Bela, would march and bark at everything and everyone, I said, "only people in Greenwich or Southport would even think of such a thing as a dog parade...or maybe New Canaan...."

The train didn't stop in Greenwich, but the woman who was distressed about the cancellation of the dog parade got off at Southport. She was still talking too loudly on her Smart Phone, probably still wondering when the dogs would reschedule....

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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.