Brian and I went to visit family friends at the beach this weekend. Despite an astounding gastric episode I had on Friday night and Saturday morning, I felt I was in the clear, and we made our way to the eastern shore. After showing Brian some nostalgic spots we enjoyed a lovely lobster dinner with our hosts, reminiscent of Mom’s formal crab feast – all of which is captured in photos on my pseudo-smart phone, which are now of course, totally unaccessible. Damn you Droid.
On top of that, Friday and Saturday turned out not to be a fluke and I was officially sick with a bug or something I ate, so I spent the majority of the visit in bed. Those frustrations aside, I had the pleasure of meeting Dinghy. She was terrifying at first.
Then, while I lay in my sickbed we began to communicate, telepathically of course, and it turns out we have a few things in common, like a love of Kate Spade and we agreed that the Sandi Cardigan would be great for this season.
She also cued into my love of boating and sailing and suggested, if I made it to the Annapolis sailboat show that I check out the rhodes22. Not that sailing is her strength. She is more of a Sea Ray power boat cruiser. Sure, she can help let off a jib sheet, but I shouldn’t rely on her for points of sail.
Me: Thanks for the tip. Maybe we’ll get that ride someday. Is it true you can tell when the weather is coming sooner than we humans?
Dinghy: Oh yeah, I can let you know to shit your pants at least 10 minutes before you’d know you need to.
Me: hmm, let’s scuttle back to land. How are things with your humans?
Dinghy: I can’t say enough about my humans. They are generous in every way and are fine with me not learning one thing from them. For this and some other reasons I’ve chosen not to destroy a lot of their stuff. That and because I respect their personal responsibility.
Me: That’s nice. Excuse me please while I go puke.
Dinghy: Eat too much mulch and rug fuzz?
Me: No, probably picked up e-coli off a menu or something grosser I learned from Dr. Oz. Anyway, you were saying?
Dinghy: Well, as head of the household here I have my concerns, and have been reading some disturbing things on woofingtonpost, not to mention a most illuminating SNL this week.
Me: Go on 10-pound terrier poodle. Go on.
Dinghy: All I know is that I run this place for us to be self-sufficient. Everything here has been earned and we exercise and brush regularly. And as a female, I care about equal pay for women, appointments that represent women like that of Sonia Sotomayor, and about healthcare like access to birth control. Trust me, these studs talk a big game about social responsibility, but once that litter shows up, the bitch is left holding the bag, and I don’t’ want to see that any more.
Me: True ’nuff scruff. Sounds to me like you know who’d you vote for. Does your library card allow you to vote?
Dinghy: No, but my bug-hunting license does (NWS).
Me: Well, we’ll see what this November brings then. I think I’ll writhe around with nausea some more.
Dinghy: I’m going to go around make cute, communicative, endearing ear movements. Catch ya later.
Me: urp. Later.