Yours truly was enjoying a delectable Chocolate Lava Cake, garnished with candied walnuts, a side of vanilla gelato, and a sprig of fresh mint- at one of my favorite eateries during my lunch hour, when a Caucasian Man of Slight Build and with dark hair, walked in and sat at the bar. Upon settling in ... about three chairs away from me, he ordered a "coffee with Bailey's," in a brusque, yet familiar voice. I was caught up in the rapture of my delicious dessert, the stresses of work and workplace rivalries forgotten in that moment of space and time, so I didn't notice Man of Slight Build's lunch companion. Suddenly, I heard the trendy and very blond restaurant hostess cooing. "Ohhhh, you're sooooo cute. You're such a gooood boooy." Then I looked up. ... There, on M.O.S.B. 's lap was a Yorkie, small enough to travel in a Louis Vuitton pet tote.... naked, exposed, and out in the open, in an eating establishment, no less. Suddenly my neuroses started to kick in. My mind raced!
"IS THAT EVEN LEGAL??? TO HAVE AN ANIMAL, IN AN EATING AND DRINKING ESTABLISHMENT???? THERE ARE TABLES SET UP OUTSIDE! WHY ISN'T HE OUT THERE ENJOYING HIS SPIKED COFFEE???!!! THE WEATHER IS WONDERFUL! GO OUTSIDE!" It screamed. Repulsed, I slowly and calmly put my dessert fork down. Just then, M.O.S.B.'s coffee with Bailey's arrived, topped off with a heaping mountain of whipped cream.
Another blond waitress came over and cooed some more. "Ohhh, you're sooo cuuuute! You loooove daddy, don't you???" she said, as she massaged the area behind its pert ears.
My mind screamed. "He only likes filet mignon, steak, and chicken," M.O.S.B. opined, smugly. "I don't see the point in giving him regular dog food. It's all oats and grain and animals don't really live off of that," He continued. For I'm assuming he believes his little furry cretin only deserves the best. To punctuate his point, M.O.S.B. scooped up a dollop of whipped cream and fed it to his little beloved. The dog lapped and licked his master's finger greedily. "Yeah, daddy's not supposed to feed whipped cream to you, right?" The bar patron cooed to his lap dog. After a period of time, the man told his little pocket pooch that there was no more whipped cream to be lapped, because it was "aaaaaall gone." I eventually returned to my dessert, chocolate ecstasy triumphing and overwhelming my brief feelings of disgust.


Anonymous said...

You know, I have read on many other blogs about this same issue, and it seems to acceptable in certain areas of the states (California especially) and not in others. In the province and city where I live in Canada, having pets in a restaurant is not done. I find it repulsive to have an animal who licks their ass with the same tongue they eat with in an eating establishment, just like you do. But the people who do it will defend these animals like they are their children, which I find pathetic. Even in our house, when we eat, our dog goes to his pillow and stays there until we are done. No begging, no table offerings, no sharing. They are DOGS. And dogs do not belong around people when they're eating.

Shell said...

Oh and one more thing.... Talking to their animals like they are people.... Gosh.... I have no words Tiff! How could you NOT burst out laughing lololol

pricolatino said...

Well I talk to our kittens all the time like they're people, especially when Pilar bites me ("You Bitch!!!"). LOLOLOLOL

Brunhilda said...

I have to agree, and wee beastie in an eatry is a bit much. Out here you can only bring in animals if they are special helper animals for the disabled.

BeautyinBaltimore said...

Fing gross, was he French or maybe he thinks this is France.