White Dog needed no more than a whisper, "Let's go," and she was on the move. Our friend, Angela, was having a fundraising event for NMDog, her rescue and unchained dog advocacy, and we were headed over to show our support.
Angela LOVES Sibes and we truly thought for a moment of bringing Zsofia but came to our senses as we thought of our darker white Baby Girl at a restaurant, with live music, LOTS of other dogs, tight quaters, a cotton candy machine and dog treat seller and a million other delightful distractions. Zso would have been a hyperactive nut case. Someday she will be ready for that much social stimulus at one time but I envisioned her whipping every single dog there into a howling chorus as she leaped up to see what was on every table and tried to sample the spinning sugar machine. "Sweetheart," I told her, "momma needs you here to guard over Puff."
White Dog has grown up in these situations and is poised and calm. She even knows to wait until she can sit on my lap in the wheelchair to cross the hot asphalt of the parking lot.
We made our greetings and found a table on the bursting to overflowing patio. Refreshing iced teas and water were brought almost immediately as we decided on tapas for lunch. Those around us petted and chatted about our lovely lady and she soaked up the attention. We spotted friends across the crowded space and waved; Tracey came over to chat while Hot Rod and his dad stayed in their corner sanctuary (Hot Rod is a rescue boy who works VERY hard in social situations).
The entire patio group sort of pulled in tighter to make room for the couple with a gorgeous Malamute boy and his Sibe sister. (Can you imagine if Zso was here to paly with these guys Steve leaned over to ask; the patio would have been cleared with just one wrestling match). They sat next to us and the Malamute was immediately bedazzled by The White Dog. He came over to gently touch noses and introduce himself. WD was polite and charming as she accepted his attenton for awhile and then moved to sit under my wheelchair.
Her would-be suitor followed her around the table and collapsed into a huge furry mountain next to me so that he could gaze at our girl through the spokes of my wheel. "Is he bothering her?" his human asked. "She will tell him enough," I replied, "but for now all is good." He laughed and explained the Sibe sister did a pretty good job at telling him enough as well.
When the tapas arrived the waitress noted that I was getting pretty red with sunburn. I looked around but there was really no shade to be had. "Wait a minute," she said and hurried back inside. "She came back and said "follow me, we have a place inside for you so you are not cooked. Just keep your dog on your lap or under you and it will be all right." Then she helped us relocate our food and drinks into the restaurant at the back dark corner booth. WD sank to the cool tile. Shortly after she led our friends and Hot Rod in to join us (Hot Rod is Tracey's therapy dog).
White Dog quietly enjoyed pita bread with cucumber yogurt sauce, some goat cheese, and a small piece of calamari. The meal was especially enjoyable because a portion of the tab was going to help Angela's dogs.
Winners of raffle prizes were just being announced when we returned outside; It took us a few minutes to manuveur the crowd to get back to the van. Once inside, WD settled into the stream of the air conditioner and closed her eyes. "Looks like the event was a succes," she murmured. "I sure hope so," I said stroking her soft white head.