“The Poodles of Park Avenue” by Karen-Cherie Cogane, celebrate National Dog Day 2017 on Saturday, August 26! It’s the day to appreciate the endless devotion that dogs bring to our lives, and to help homeless and abused dogs.
Our four-legged friends give us humans so much in the form of unconditional love. When they are used in emergency services work, they keep us safe, and support disabled, blind, and deaf people.
Now’s the time to give back to these wonderful animals. You can adopt a dog from a reputable breeder or a homeless shelter. Or, why not treat your canine to a relaxing and pampering spa day, or buy something special for your pet?
Most of all, spend quality time with your pooch. Your dog is a big part of your family and deserves the best.
Simone, the white poodle and the book’s star, is so happy to share this day with her friends and family.
FAST FORWARD TO AUGUST 26, 2017:
“Hi! It’s Simone! It’s Saturday, August 26, and hooray, it’s National Dog Day! Mom and dad are throwing me a party in our Manhattan apartment. Since it’s ‘My Day,’ I let mommy do the soiree preparation (I’ll get back to party planning soon).
Of course, Ricardo, my black poodle boyfriend, is here with Jorge, his owner and our chef.
Sincella, the whitish girl poodle, came, too with her humans, Lonnie and Claire, my parents’ friends. This is Sincella’s first time at my Manhattan parties (she lives on Park Avenue), but she’s been at my Amagansett gatherings (she summers in the Hamptons).
My other doggie buddies from the building have arrived: Lexi, the girl Old English Sheepdog with the never-ending fur; Renaldo, the male collie, and Charmaine, the female white Bichon.
Frank, my dog walker, brought a ‘Plus One.’ Guess who? His wife or one of his daughters? No . . . uh . . . It’s Mojito, my temperamental Chihuahua walking partner. It was my idea to invite Mojito since it’s his holiday, too. But, I hope I don’t regret this . . . Frank has warned him to be, like, on his best behavior, and I’m keeping my paws crossed.
Apollo, the black poodle, who belongs to BT, dad’s boss at the bank, won’t be at this party. Too bad, or is it? Apollo’s a very nice poodle, but Ricardo gets jealous when he’s around. Does ‘Simone’s Summer Soiree’ in Amagansett sound familiar? Ricardo got, like, very insecure and got into a fight with Apollo over moi. My boyfriend thinks the rich poodle is after me, and well, he kind of is.
To refresh your memory: BT, the Chairman of dad’s firm, wants me to breed with Apollo, who comes from a long line of show dogs! Raymond told BT that I’m with Ricardo, but Mr. Thomas is not giving up. But, as if! Not ready to breed! Ricardo would be my choice if and when I am ready to have kids. Not that Apollo isn’t a good catch, but I already have my soul mate.
My curious boyfriend glances around and asks me: ‘So, is Apollo coming tonight?’
Me: ‘No, he can’t. He’ll be at home in Westchester.’
Ricardo: ‘Oh, that’s a shame . . . a real shame . . . ‘
‘Don’t be sarcastic, Ricardo. Apollo’s very nice. He really is,’ I reply.
‘You mean, nice and rich,’ my beau adds.
I try and assure him: ‘I’ve told you not to be jealous. We’re just friends.’
‘Just make sure it’s not ‘Friends with Benefits,’ Ricardo retorts.
So, I inquire: ‘How do you know about that?’
Ricardo’s answer: ‘I heard it on TV. Make sure there’s nothing funny going on. Okay?’
‘You know I love YOU, so don’t worry,’ I tell Ricardo, and I plant a big kiss on his poodle cheek.
I guess Ricardo feels a little guilty: ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to accuse you. It’s just that you mean so much to me, and I don’t ever want to lose you.’
I reply: ‘You won’t . . . you won’t . . .’
My thoughts: ‘Jealousy . . . Jealousy . . . Romantic Love Triangles . . . Personality Clashes . . . It’s not just on soap operas, like the ‘Cute and the Curious’; It actually happens to dogs and humans. But, does it happen to cats, fish, and apes? How about ducks, birds, or horses? It must apply to all animals, of course.’
On to other dog issues . . . I’ve been worried that Charmaine, who is hyper doesn’t clash with Mojito, who, like, puts the edge in edgy. But, are you ready for this?
The Chihuahua playboy just took one look at the fluffy and pretty Charmaine, who is on the other side of the room, and his mouth dropped open. Now Mojito says she’s his new potential wife! He’s adding Charmaine to his list of about 12 candidates! He already brags how adorable their Chi-Chon puppies would be (Chihuahua and Bichon combo)!
Mojito’s just over-compensating since he’s really in love with me (but he knows he can’t have me). He’s plagued by self-doubt, and says if he has a harem, that no dog will ever leave him. Personally, how can any canine put up with his moody personality and shrill yap?
That dog is like Napoleon; he’s little, strong-willed, and has a power complex. Mojito thinks he is the sultan or emperor of Park Avenue! I think he’s been watching ‘Aladdin’ or ‘The King and I’ too much!
That being said, Mojito wants me to introduce him to Charmaine, but I stall. The Chihuahua will yap . . . Charmaine will get nervous and turn in circles . . . Sally, her owner, will get mad . . . And, I don’t want to be in the middle of this doggie drama!
That’s why I’m so glad Renaldo, the mild-mannered collie is here. Hopefully, he’ll have a calming effect on the other dogs. But, I think he has a crush on me, too. I know . . . I know . . . You might think that I’m conceited, but it’s just my female intuition. Not to mention that Renaldo always smiles at me. Due to my poodle-liciousness, I’m used to admiration from boys.
Sincella has romance on her mind, too. She asks, ‘Are there any single dogs here, Simone?’
I answer: ‘A few . . . There’s a few single ones.’
‘What about that cute Chihuahua? Is he available?’ Sincella inquires.
‘Uh . . . That’s Mojito, the one I walk with every day with Frank,’ I reply.
‘Oh, yes, so you know him well, and maybe you can introduce me to him,’ she enthuses.
I respond: ‘Uh, that’s not a good idea. He’s, uh, single, but, I don’t think he’s the dog for you, um, in a romantic way, Sincella.’
‘Why?’ she asks.
‘Because he’s mixed up and doesn’t know what dog he wants. Right now, he has about TWELVE DOGS that he wants as his potential wives. He’s really confused,’ I assert.
‘So, he has a lot of dog girlfriends?’ Sincella wonders.
I scoff: ‘Not one . . . not one . . .’
Sincella tilts her head and remarks: ‘I don’t get it. I thought you said he has so many girls.’
‘No, what I mean is he WANTS MANY WIVES. Mojito’s very insecure and has a lot of issues. Right now, he doesn’t have ANY girl,’ I tell her.
‘Oh, then you’re right, Simone. Mojito’s not the dog for me. I want a ‘One Girlfriend Dog,’ someone who just wants me. It would be nice if he’s a poodle, but he doesn’t have to be, as long as he treats me well.’
I feel bad for Sincella and assure her: ‘You’ll meet someone, maybe Renaldo, the cute collie who is over there. He’s very nice and even tempered. I’ll introduce you later.’
Sincella stares at Renaldo, who’s on the opposite side of the room: ‘Oh, he’s handsome. That’s a good idea. Hey, what about Apollo? Is he coming?’
‘Not tonight, but maybe you’ll see him another time, at our next party,’ I tell my poodle friend.
‘I’d really like that. Apollo’s dashing and charming!’ Sincella says.
Moi: ‘You’re right. He certainly is.’
‘Simone, you’re so lucky you have Ricardo. He really seems to love you,’ she praises.
‘I know I am. Even though they’re many, many dogs in New York, It’s hard to meet a great one. And, Ricardo’s a wonderful boyfriend. But, you’re sweet and cute, and you have a very nice human family. I know you’ll find love, too, Sincella,’ I reply.
My friend’s response: ‘I hope I do, Simone.’
‘Be confident . . . You will . . . probably when you least expect it,’ I remark.
Calling a special fella for Sincella! And, I’ll help her screen and interview the candidates.
Another problem: I’m worried about my English Sheepdog friend, Lexi, who is here. Since her pet mom is unavailable, Frank picked up her up and will drop her off . . . Poor, sweet, furry Lexi, just has her paws full, not bumping into things (with all that fur in her eyes).
I know: I’ll tell Frank to advise Lexi’s mother to give her a Beauty Day at Ma Belle Chien. Underneath all her fur (and I’ve looked), Lexi’s very cute. But, she really needs to have bangs cut or a barrette put in.
I know she’s a Sheepdog, and it goes with the territory, but I’m, like, ‘Out with the old, and in with the new!’ Even though Lexi is only two years old, (around my age, and about 14 in dog years), it’s high time she sees the world around her better. So, just give her a haircut! Maybe Lexi can learn to dance, or even find romance!
I pushed my luck. I knew it! I knew it! Mojito is transfixed, and now the object of his desire is Lexi! ‘Wow, look at her long hair! She’s so pretty!’ he exclaims.
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I ask, ‘Really?’
Me: ‘Don’t get any ideas, Mojito. Lexi can’t really see you with all that fur in her eyes.’
He answers: ‘Well . . . Then she’ll have a great surprise.’
My retort: ‘Do not . . . I repeat, do not, make a play for Lexi. She’s too big for you . . . way too big. She’s a Sheepdog, and I don’t think you’re, uh, her type. You’re a Chihuahua.’
‘Why? What does size matter? I could cuddle up next to her in the cold weather,’ Mojito says.
‘She’s not a rug, Mojito or a blanket; she’s an innocent and sheltered dog,’ I state.
The Chihuahua: ‘Well . . . She might be the love of my life! And, maybe we can herd sheep together. I can help her maneuver.’
Moi: ‘We’re in Manhattan, Mojito, not Nebraska or England. Just leave Lexi alone.’
Mojito persists: ‘No, I want to meet Lexi! Can you introduce me? Can you?’
Here we go again, so I tell him: ‘Not now.’
‘Why not?’ Mojito inquires.
‘Because you don’t know what or who you want. And, I don’t want Lexi to get involved in your wacky world. I mean, before, you said you wanted Charmaine. And, before that, how many dogs did you want? Mojito, you better sit down because you’re delusional!’ I insist.
The Chihuahua: ‘No, I’m not! Why do you say that, Simone?’
After rolling my eyes, I snap at him: ‘No comment . . . Well . . . Just one strong comment . . . I think you should stick to Chihuahuas. You have more in common with them, much more. And, you think you’re Don Juan! Don Juan! As if!’
Mojito yaps: ‘Yes, I am just like Don Juan, and what’s wrong with that?’
And, I clarify: ‘You’re just one little Chihuahua, not a Latin lover, and you’re very confused!”
My thoughts: ‘As if any dog will tolerate crazy you! And, all you ask is: ‘Why? Why?’
I feel like I’m with a toddler, and I kind of am (even though Mojito is about 14 in dog years: 2 years old). He’s so immature.
Mojito yells: ‘No one understands me! I just want love, and I can have as many wives as I want! Poodles . . . Bichons . . . Sheepdogs . . . Bulldogs . . . Chihuahuas . . . The more, the merrier!’
Then I say to myself: ‘Good luck with that!’
‘What makes you think all these dogs want YOU?’ I ask the Chihuahua.
The arrogant Mojito sticks his chin up and responds: ‘Why wouldn’t they? I’m handsome . . . I live on Park Avenue . . . I have a slim physique . . . I’m friendly . . . I have so much to offer!’
‘Handsome? Uh, well, kind of cute. Park Avenue? I’ll give you that. Slim? More like tiny. And, friendly? Not often . . . not often . . . only when you see a girl dog you want to pick up or when you want to get your way,’ I think.
Mojito adds: ‘I’m the catch of Park Avenue!’
I stop myself from laughing, but it’s not easy. That dog is too much! Too much!
“And, even if you could have TWELVE WIVES, where would you put them all?’ I ask.
The Chihuahua: ‘In my apartment! It’s big, and my parents wouldn’t even notice, since they’re never around! They’re doctors, who are always on call!’
“I think they’d notice that many dogs! They’re not stupid, and besides, can you imagine all that barking?’ I respond.
Mojito replies: ‘They would be love barks.’
‘Like your sweet yaps . . . I mean, barks?’ I inquire sarcastically.
The Chihuahua: ‘I’ll have you know, my barks are like melodies . . . They sound like music that makes you sway.’
‘You mean your barks keep everyone away,’ I scoff.
‘Simone, you’re not being nice. It would all work out. Two dogs . . . Six dogs . . . Or twelve dogs . . . What’s the difference?’ Mojito says matter-of-factly.
My poodle viewpoint is that Mojito just wants attention from his preoccupied parents, and that’s why he’s acting out. Oh, grow up, Mojito! Just, grow up!
I retort: ‘Have you been sipping wine? You’re not making any sense!’
‘Very funny . . . I just know what I want, and I’m going to get it, just like an Arabian king has multiple wives,’ Mojito answers.
At this point, I can’t take it anymore. He’s a nut job – off his rocker! So, I turn my head away from Mojito, and put my paw over my mouth to muffle my laughter.
Mojito: ‘What’s so funny? I heard you laughing at me, Simone!’
‘Uh . . . No, I wasn’t . . . Uh . . . I was just thinking of something cute that Ricardo said before,’ I answer.
‘What?’ the Chihuahua inquires.
‘It’s something private,’ I reveal.
So, Mojito starts yapping nonsense, and I can’t even make out any words.
Whew! Even though I’m a dog, I think I could use a glass of Cabernet right about now. But, I take a deep breath and get my poodle composure. I’m not going to let that Chihuahua get to me . . . I’m not . . .
Now it’s back to reporting about the festivities. Fifteen of mom and dad’s friends are party-goers, and we have seven dogs (including me)!
Mom is thrilled that Sally, Charmaine’s pet mom and her BFF, is here with her husband, Martin, a celebrity dentist. He makes everyone’s teeth look very WHITE and BRIGHT.
Sally and Grace can catch up on new fashion and decorating trends, popular restaurants, and especially, on gossip, like who’s dating whom.
Lively classical music is playing, Tchaikovsky’s ‘Nutcracker Suite,’ since Grace knows he’s my favorite composer! Maybe I’ll even do a pirouette, and it will be my best one yet!
And, what is our soiree, without the moody butler of the day? As in Ardsley, who will serve, but he better not fight again with Jorge. Frank and Jorge are also guests, much to Ardsley’s chagrin.
Our menu is sure to entice even the most discerning palate. Jorge is making filet mignon with red wine sauce, baked potatoes, haricot verts (green beans), baby carrots, and an array of fancy hors d’oeuvres (Think bruschetta, salmon sashimi, caviar, and liver pate), for the humans and dogs. We’ll have a salad featuring the hip green: kale, but I don’t think I’ll eat that. Fruit salad will refresh, and it’s a mélange of summer fruit. Oh, and Jorge’s even baking bread!
Dexter, who was the bartista: a bartender and barista, at my recent ‘Simone’s Soiree’ in Amagansett, will create libations. A full bar and an array of espresso coffees will be offered. Wouldn’t mind a sip or two of French wine. That would be fine!
And, how about a latte or cappuccino to go with the vino? I keep saying they should make a dog-friendly coffee! What are they, like, waiting for?
I know, they can open a doggie Starbucks! They can call it ‘Starbarks!’ C’est une bonne idee (That’s a good idea), isn’t it? And, the sign should read: ‘Dog Walkers Allowed’ because the stars are us canines, but the owners or pooch walkers must pay for our drinks.
In honor of us four legged friends, who will drink Perrier, my parents will do a champagne toast. But, I want the bubbly from France that has a kick! Bien sur (of course)! Maybe I can sneak some champagne quickly, but don’t tell, okay? Oh, and I don’t want to boast, but I bet I’ll get the most toasts!
Regarding the decadent desserts, Jorge baked Black Forest cake, Red Velvet cake, and Strawberry Shortcake. He also made a variety of fruit pies, including triple berry pie (blueberry, blackberry, and raspberry)! That man can do it all!
Mom says the piece de resistance will be a dog-friendly cake in the shape of a poodle that comes from ‘Woof and Stuff,’ a doggie bakery. It’s made of carob, but I really want chocolate! I want chocolate!
But, I hope I don’t get cavities from the sweets, and then, I’ll have to go to the dentist. I mean, it’s, like, not my favorite thing. Dr. Barton, my vet, doubles as a doggie dentist. He’s very friendly, but I don’t like when he makes me open my mouth up so wide. I don’t really mind the chicken flavored toothpaste, but, please, I’m a poodle, not a tiger or a lion!
Now picture this. The ‘Happy National Dog Day!’ banner sets the uplifting tone. Canine themed decorations are around the apartment. The tables are set with pretty poodle plates (Say that three times fast!), glasses, flatware, and napkins. And, everything matches – natch!
Fragrant gardenias and roses abound, but no candles surround. Grace is afraid us dogs would knock them over. Don’t know why, though. Can’t speak for my furry amis (friends), mais (but) I’m a very graceful poodle.
The icing on the cake (figuratively) is a photo of me that is hung in the living room, and it makes Ricardo swoon. It’s so nice as a dog, to feel, like, very appreciated.
Some single ladies will be guests, and you know the rest. They’ll flirt with the handsome Jorge, I’m sure, and there’s more.
Ardsley better not spill any food on Jorge this time, like he did at my recent Hamptons soiree, or else Grace will get very mad. He’s beyond jealous of the attention Jorge gets from women.
Who wouldn’t want a man who is a dashing and charming gourmet cook? Every word out of his mouth, sounds, like, so romantic. FYI, Jorge fixes things around the apartment, too. Take a number!
My parents’ favorite people will sit at one long rectangular table in our dining room, and then there’s Ardsley, who will have the pleasure of eating with us canines at the nearby ‘Doggie Table.’ Mom and dad aren’t mean, they just need Ardsley to feed us. Yes, I’m coordinated, but I don’t know how to cut food.
I can just hear Ardsley now: ‘I’ve waited on nobility in England, including kings and queens, and now I’m serving dogs! And, why does Jorge get to socialize with the big-wigs, while I sit with the pooches? It’s just not fair! Jorge should be here or Frank! I’m a butler, not a dog sitter!’
My thoughts: ‘Excuse me! I’m not only a dog: I’m special! Je suis poodle! And, Ardsley should be thrilled to be sitting with me and my doggie pals!’
Grace is sending our butler a signal (figuratively); She’s getting fed up with Ardsley’s antics and scenes. Our butler better watch his step, or else!
But, I think mom has a little crush on Jorge, and vice versa, and dad is jealous. It’s kind of sweet to see the business-like, practical Raymond, be sensitive and insecure. Even though dad has a lot of dough, he acts, like, I don’t know . . .
When Jorge stared at Grace at my Hamptons party, pop was, like, annoyed and suspicious. Mommy reassured daddy and told him he’s charming, but in a ‘different way’ than Jorge. Personally, I think a little jealousy is good, so your guy, poodle or human, doesn’t take you for granted.
Dad left work early today and is already here. I bet he’s checking up on mom, to make sure she doesn’t flirt with Jorge, or that the Spanish charmer, doesn’t sweep Grace off her feet.
Grace’s outfit de jour (of the day) is a short royal blue dress with, you guessed it, royal blue high heels that are Louboutins (mom told me). Her long golden brown highlighted hair is in loose waves, cascading down her sinewy neck. She has blue earrings and a matching necklace on (I think they’re sapphires).
Her look is topped off with a red lip, taupe eyeshadow, and a touch of bronzer to create a sun-kissed visage (face). Mom tells me all about the make-up that she buys at Prefera, and I want to try some!
Is it a coincidence that Raymond walks into the kitchen and looks at Jorge, who is perfecting his cakes and pies? Doubt it . . . Pop is making sure Jorge is busy with something, other than Grace. It’s above-board for now, and dad wants to keep it that way. No shenanigans allowed.
FYI, I’m posing strategically next to Grace, who gives me soothing pets. You don’t think I want to miss anything, do you?
Is it a coincidence that then dad walks over to Grace, puts his arm around her tightly, and glances in the kitchen, to see if Jorge is watching? Doubt it. We’ve got a bit of a husband-chef rivalry, but wait, there’s more . . .
Get this – Jorge brings out one of his cakes, and mom and dad happen to be standing near him in the dining room, but I don’t think that’s a coincidence, either. Jorge takes one look at Grace, and then . . . He almost drops his creation, and guess who catches it? Ardsley!
Ardsley exclaims: ‘Got it! You can’t blame me this time. I saved the day!’
My thoughts: ‘Ardsley, you just did this, so the humans will stop finding fault with you, and to get in good with mom and dad. That’s all. I still don’t trust you. You’re up to something.’
Jorge: ‘Thanks . . . uh . . . thanks, Ardsley.’
Mom: ‘Are you okay, Jorge?’
‘Yes, Grace. But, we almost lost the cake,’ Jorge says.
Grace: ‘I know, but it looks fine, yes? Is it the Red Velvet cake?’
‘Yes. And, it was almost a velvety mess,’ Jorge laments.
Mommy: ‘But, thanks to Ardsley, it’s not.’
Our butler gloats: ‘Well . . . Being coordinated does come in handy.’
Jorge rolls his eyes and says: ‘Yeah, you’re a regular gymnast.’
Ardsley: ‘I’ll have you know, I used to be quite the tap dancer as a lad in England. I studied for many years.’
‘Got it, Ardsley. You can tippy tap over to setting the table, but I have to bring out the rest of my fancy desserts,’ Jorge replies.
‘I see. Need any more help? And, try not to trip,’ our butler says sarcastically.
Jorge: ‘Very funny . . . very funny . . . And, no, I don’t need any assistance . . . no . . . no . . . no . . .’
So, Jorge walks into the kitchen, and Ardsley finishes placing the dishes on the table. Those two are simply not meant to be.
Then Raymond stares and mom, and remarks: ‘I think your dresses are too skimpy, Grace.’
Mom: ‘Where is this coming from? You don’t like how I look, Raymond?’
Dad: ‘I didn’t say that, but maybe you should be more conservative.’
‘I always thought you like it when I show off my legs. After all, I studied ballet for many years,’ Grace responds.
‘I do, but Jorge likes it too much, I think,’ daddy answers.
Mommy explains: ‘Oh, Raymond, you’re just being silly. Jorge is probably working too hard, and just lost his footing momentarily.’
Pop scoffs: ‘Yeah, Jorge’s preoccupied looking at you. That’s what it is. That’s why he almost dropped the cake. And, it would have been all over the floor if Ardsley didn’t catch it.’
‘Don’t blame me. Do not. You’re being paranoid, dear. Calm down,’ Grace assures.
Dad’s retort: ‘Well . . . Your dresses keep getting shorter, and your hair is getting longer.’
‘Would you want my dresses to be longer, and my hair to be short?’ mom asks.
‘Yes, maybe a little longer – your dresses shouldn’t be so short. You’re the hostess on Park Avenue tonight, and you’re always the wife of a dignified investment banker, not a showgirl. You should present a certain proper image,’ daddy says.’
Mommy shakes her head and tells him: ‘I know all about being proper, and I’m very refined, but I like to accentuate my legs. I’m proud of them, and that’s what I’m going to do. And, I’ll have you know that minis are all over the runways. And, everyone compliments me on my outfits.’
‘You mean all the men,’ daddy asserts.’
Grace counters: ‘Not just the men . . . Sally, Francine (our nanny), Claire, and the list goes on and on.’
‘Look, I’m a man, and I know what men look at. Do you want Jorge’s attention, Grace?’ Raymond inquires.
‘Here you go again with Jorge! Jorge, Jorge, Jorge . . . I just like to look nice, and that’s it!’ Grace exclaims.
Pop responds with a smirk: ‘That better be it because if you and our chef continue to flirt, I’ll be very upset.’
‘He just admires me. That’s all,’ mom clarifies.
‘That’s where it all starts, Grace. You know that,’ Raymond emphasizes.
Grace snaps: ‘Stop this now. Please!’
‘Okay, but I still say . . .’ dad adds.
‘Dear, we’re the hosts for the dogs’ party, so we have to focus,’ mother replies.
‘As long as HE doesn’t focus on you and vice versa,’ my father chimes in.
Grace assures: ‘I love you, but stop being so jealous, Raymond.’
Having sensitive dog ears really comes in handy. I hear mom say softly: ‘Oh, good it’s working,’ and then she grins.
Dad overhears and asks: ‘What’s working?’
‘Oh . . . uh . . . The air conditioning . . . um . . . I thought it was broken before,’ Grace replies.
Raymond smirks and asks: ‘I don’t think that’s what you mean, Grace, is it?’
‘It was hot in here earlier, and that’s all, Raymond, and now, it’s cool and comfortable,’ she retorts.
Meanwhile, I say to myself: ‘Mom means she’s glad dad is jealous of Jorge looking at her. She’s flirting with Jorge on purpose, to get Raymond’s attention. Pop’s usually preoccupied with his work, so Grace is trying to shake things up.’ I’m a smart and astute poodle, n’est-ce pas vrai (isn’t this true)?
‘Well, Grace, it’s still hot in here, and you know what I mean. You want Jorge to stare at you. Just admit it,’ Raymond says.
‘You’re getting carried away. Take it easy. Just calm down,’ Grace stresses.
Raymond: ‘I’ll try, but please tone down your outfits. What’s next, a bikini, Grace?’
My thoughts: ‘Dad isn’t being fair, and I don’t blame Grace for wanting to showcase her legs. Why shouldn’t she? They’re so pretty and defined, from all mom’s years as a ballet dancer. I wouldn’t want to cover up my gams, which as a poodle, are often decorated with fluffy pompoms. My legs are such a big part of me, and Ricardo loves looking at them. Sometimes I don’t wear outfits, just to show off my four legs!’
You go, mom! Assert yourself. Let’s hear it for girl power! And, if mommy wants to wear a bikini, she should!
Grace: ‘Ha! Ha! I wouldn’t wear a bikini at our apartment soiree, but maybe at our next Amagansett party. Let’s change the subject, and get back to our guests.’
Raymond emphasizes: ‘Okay, BUT DON’T . . . ‘
Mom is getting more irritated with dad: ‘No more buts or don’ts, Raymond! And, if I want to wear a bikini, I will!’ and she struts over to talk to some friends.
I love mom’s confident, ‘I am woman! Je suis Grace!’ prance (and it’s kind of like my ‘Je suis poodle!’ strut)!
Looking annoyed at mommy, daddy shakes his head, and starts petting me fast. Hey, slow down! I’m a poodle, and I need calm strokes. Slow down, dad!
We’ve got a potential soap opera here. Let me be clear.
Anyway, back to the purpose of today.
I honor National Dog Day with this special poem I, Simone, wrote. I dictated it to Frank’s I-phone; My astute dog walker understands poodle talk and is learning to speak Chihuahua.
‘Even though I’m a pampered Park Avenue pooch, courtesy of my humans, Raymond and Grace, I have a lot to say on this very important day.
What brings to mind when you think of us dogs? Is it our poodle hair, other dogs’ fur, our fluff, or lots of other stuff? Is it our sweet faces or our inimitable grace?
In reference to moi, Simone, is it my pompoms, my poodle prance, or my preference for classical dance (ballet)?
Is it that twinkle in my eye or the way I bark: ‘goodbye?’
Is it my presence, whether it’s night or day, or my desire to frequent a good café? Does Café Beaucoup sound familiar to you?
Is it the tone of my sweet bark, or my enthusiasm for walks in Central Park?
Is it that I’m a fashionista, since I love to wear pretty dresses and matching bows, or is it the way my stylist, Lilly, paints my poodle toes?
Is it my amour (love) for a juicy steak bone, or the way I listen to you (discreetly, of course), Grace, talk on the phone?
When we jump up and greet you after a busy, stressful day, your troubles seem to fly away. All us dogs are thinking is: ‘Please stay, Mom and Dad . . . Please stay . . . Missed you all day . . . And, today is National Dog Day!’
You may think we’re pondering: ‘What did you bring me?
What’s in the bag?’ While that might be partially true, what we want most is YOU!
You can give us new toys, on-trend doggie outfits, fancy collars, and lots of bacon treats. I, myself, love the scrumptious human eats. But, what we want so much, the dogs of the earth, is to know that we have worth.
Dog parents: Give us lots of love . . . Promise not to chew on your slippers – I only did that when I was a little puppy. Shower us with pets, hugs, and throw in a back rub or two, and we’ll do anything for you.
We’ll follow you, our people, everywhere, and you’ll feel like you don’t have a care.
So, give your furry friend lots of attention. And, there is something else I want to mention.
On this National Dog Day, remember to love your dogs each and every day. And if you can, provide a needy canine with a happy home cause’ no doggie deserves to roam.
There’s a reason we’re known as ‘Man’s Best Friend,’ for we adore you, and on that you can depend.
I hope my words really warm your heart. One thing about us poodles, I mean, dogs: we’re tres (very) smart.’
Now the party is starting, so I must prance and do my happy dance! Five, six, seven, and eight . . . Isn’t being a dog great?
Places, everyone! Happy National Dog Day 2017 to all dogs everywhere!’[/read]