I am always amazed when people get on the train with anything larger than one of those socialite pocketbook dogs. I can't put my feet on the seats without getting a tsk tsk from the conductor, but your labrador can just plop right down? I do not want to get into the scatological details of a dogs daily activities, but aside from just out of the lake retrieving a tennis ball or on the way home from the aptly named doggy salon, Bone Jour - a dog is rarely sit where I sit clean. Of course I am no fuss budget when it comes to tidyness. I am as much of a slob as anyone of my generation who was shaped by the hippie revival and grunge era of the late 1980's and early 1990's. I can't bring myself to visit the tailor or even the dry cleaner. As the clothes hang on the rack is how I accept them into my closet. "Pret a porter" is what Heidi Klum might say, but she certainly was not refering to my wardrobe which is mostly culled from sales at the Gap and redeemed coupons at Kohl's. Either way this lady with her gigantic dog rushing onto the train at the last possible second and of course everyone makes google eyes and starts talking baby talk to the dog which is either oblivious or thinks all humans are idiots. Why people lower themselves to such levels around a dog, a baby, a cute elderly person, or even quaint pictures of each is amazing to me. I think it may be a way to express their dominance over each. By talking down to each, they become marginalized. One does not greet a pretty girl in a bar this way or a politician. No matter how cute they might be.
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