Oh No, You Didn't!

Last week, I took my standard poodle with me to pick up my typical kid at baseball. Poor Linus is stuck in the kitchen a lot 'cause Conor FREAKS OUT when the dog gets out and runs around. "Linus might chew our toys," Conor tells me as he leads the 60lb dog back to the pokey. (It's true, he might.)

So when I have the opportunity, I take Linus with me. And, of course, Linus sports his very matchy-matchy collar and leash set from The Black Dog store. 

Yeah, girl, you know what I mean. My parti-poodle was lookin' fine.

Here's Linus with his new collar. His leash matches. Sha-ZAM!
("Parti" refers to the two-tone color.  Needless to say, I often
throw my hands in the air, raise the roof, and sing "Parti-poodle in da house."
My husband loves it.  NOT.)

See, Conor loves The Black Dog store, and, at every opportunity, will either visit the actual store in Connecticut or purchase items online. We have mugs, leashes, collars, hats, and t-shirts galore from this store. He thinks The Black Dog store is ♫fab-u-lous♫.

His most recent t-shirt purchase.

Like a gentleman buying lingerie for a special lady friend, Conor lovingly purchased a very nice matching collar and leash set for Linus. Out of his own allowance, nonetheless.  I didn't really think much about it when I waved Linus into the back of the SUV. 
Whatev, gotta go, baby, I am l-a-t-e.

So... I went to sit on the bench with two women I hadn't met before while the team finished up. And, of course, we started to talk about Linus.  It's not just desperate single guys and kids with autism that use pets as social lubricant after all. We all do it.

"He's so handsome," one of the women said.  "Thanks so much," I replied.  "He's a good pup."

"And he's so coordinated," the other woman smiled teasingly.

Coordinated, I said to myself. What does she mean, coordinated? Like, he didn't trip over himself? I let it pass.  I had no idea what she was talking about.

"My dog's too high strung to bring to the games," the first woman continued.  She smiled warmly at me. "She's a collie."

I nod. "Linus is pretty high strung too, but we're only going to be here for a short while," I smiled back.

"And he's so coordinated," the other woman said.  Why does she keep saying that? Is it because he's sitting so nicely? (I'm bribing him with treats.)

"His leash and collar," she pointed out, her eyes sparkling. "He's coordinated." 

Oh, I thought. Oh no, you did-n't!

Um, ex-cuse me (I didn't say out loud, not snapping my head back).  You're not dissin' my dog's ♫fab-u-lous♫ leash-and-collar set, are you?  No way, nuh-uh.

I mean, my baby's already something fabulous.  He's got himself some natural hot pants.  See?

Hot pants.  Sha-ZAM!

And, as if that's not fabulous enough for a night out at the baseball game, my baby's got himself a natural mankini.  See?

So, he is NOT going to be wearing anything but the most fabulous leash-and-collar set The Black Dog store has to offer.  Yeah, you know it.


"Did you tell her that your child with special needs picked it out and that it's special to him?" my husband asked me when I got home and regaled him with the story, zorro snapping and head shaking and attitude and all.

"Hell, no," I replied. "I just told her Aidan's brother liked the leash and collar, that he purchased it, and had she heard of The Black Dog store? You know, like on Martha's Vineyard? It doesn't matter whether he has autism or not." Snap.

Wait until I bust out the scrumptious winter coat Linus has hanging in the closet.  She's gonna be jealous. Uh-huh, you know I'm right.

Two snaps, a twist AND a kiss.