After the sun has set and the air has cooled, Pilgrim enjoys a pre-bedtime walk. As we approached Third street, we peaked into Stone Park Cafe. Our favorite bartender was behind the counter. I picked up Pilgrim and waved. She ran out, "Oh my god! He's too cute!""Watch for the roach there," I warned. Yelping, she jumped away from the one- inch insect. She bent down to play with Pilgrim, and chat him up.
An Australian girl popped out. Unicorn tattoo on her shoulder, "Look at this one! I'm a dog whisperer watch this!" She begins to hold him down, attempting to settle him. He groans. Snorts, wiggles.
Another roach darts past, "Wow there's another one," I snap.
The bartender and I begin bouncing around, dodging the massive instinct.
In her Australian variety, "No bother." She extends her flip-flopped foot and smashes it, "No worry with those, they aren't germy like the little ones."
"I hate all of them," the bartender contends.
The Australian turns her attention back to me, "You have to watch these dog whisperer videos. They are great. The dog is a reflection of you."
I glanced down to the squirming and whining Pilgrim. I admit laughter.
She gives me a firm nod, then turns her attention back to Pilgrim, "Hey get out of my vagina!"
"He likes the ladies," I shrug.
The squished roach comes back to life. Scampers away.
1 comment:
tough to kill those roaches with just flip-flops. i'd suggest training pilgrim to eat them but he's WAY too cute for that.
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