Pet Day

Today I made my annual pilgrimage to my favorite nursery, still in search of something to fill in the bare flowerbed in front of the house where Nicholas helpfully dug up two shrubs weeks ago. This wonderful nursery sits between Albany and Corvallis and it is pure delight to stroll about the large area it covers, not only because of the huge selection and variety of plants, but because of the very satisfying organization and layout. Perennials are in alphabetical order. Sun-loving and shade-loving are separated. Shrubs are in two separate sections, evergreen and deciduous, also alphabetical and further categorized by mature size. The price is a bit more, which is why I generally only buy what I can't find elsewhere. It is a destination where I can spend hours just looking, experiencing pure joy.

As I drove into the parking lot, eagerly anticipating meandering around on the first warm sunny day we've had in ages, imagine my chagrin as I noticed signs proclaiming, "Welcome to Pet Day!" Indeed, everywhere I looked people had dogs on leashes. Vendors were set up showing off special pet products. Signs were posted that sternly instructed people to clean up after their pets.

I have often been unfairly accused of not liking dogs, so I need to once again clarify: I do like dogs. In fact, I think pictures of dogs are absolutely wonderful. It's just that I don't like many of the things that dogs do. I don't like dog saliva to touch my skin. I don't like to hear barking and yipping. I don't like the way they dig holes. I don't like hair shedding or fleas. I really hate being jumped on. But in spite of all that, if only there were special dog toilets that they could all be fully trained to use, I think I might like them very much. I will never forget returning to work one day more than 20 years ago after visiting my sister at lunch and wondering for several hours what the horrible smell was that followed me everywhere I went. Eventually I noticed dog doo-doo on my shoe and on the carpet under my desk. Icky icky icky. Completely uncivilized.

I was still able to enjoy the beautiful plants today, in spite of the need to constantly scan the ground as I walked. I stopped to chat with some friends, Mike and Vicki, who had brought their little foofy dog because Vicki said he needs more opportunities to socialize with other dogs. After we had been chatting awhile, the dog started to do its dirty business. Amazing how much dirty business a tiny dog can have. Although I would not have known as I was trying to avoid looking in that direction, but Vicki had to mention her surprise at the amount because the dog had already done its' business earlier. Vicki of course sent her husband to go find something to clean it up with because they forgot to bring any baggies. They had no idea where to dispose of it, because the signs failed to mention official disposal sites. When Mike returned with nothing but a paper towel, it was time for me to tactfully say goodbye and move on, watching my feet even more carefully than before! I felt very fortunate that I completed this outing with my shoes undefiled, at least to the naked eye.