Heather is singing at a dog park and I’m disappointed she hasn’t taken the time to think up more dog-oriented phrases.
She could’ve had the audience HOWLING. Still, I HERD she did great. She only took one break and spent most of the night PACKING in great tunes without PAWS. The audience hounded her for a couple of covers that she didn’t know, which was a little ruff, but she played all night sans growling, but she unleashed enough passion that the audience was dog-gone won over by the end of the night with people waving their phones around like paw-perazzi…
Ahem.
I decided to come with her. I’ve yet to decide if it was a good idea. It is madness. Dogs are sprinting in circles, barking and joyous. Every once in a while one seems to get overly excited, but only the professionals seem to be able to tell the threshold betwixt battle and play. It’s a bizarre mix of people and their canine friends. Corgis are louder than I expect. There’s a bulldog squatting in a bathrub making it clear that there’s absolutely NOTHING else he’d rather be doing and no place he’d rather be. There’s a husky and a poodle having an intensely focused conversation that’s increasingly one-sided as the poodle loses interest. Big fluffy dogs. Tiny ratty dogs. Floppy eared dogs and pointy eared dogs and a blind dog named Dog. And every single dog seems like they’re having the absolute fucking time of their Life.
The people are drinking, chatting and relaxing and ordering dog-pun-themed food. There’s some sort of drama that has some of the staff retrieving two dogs and pulling them to the side, but for the Life of me I can’t tell if they’ve done something wrong or if it’s just time for them to go home. Little knots are pulled about and let go again and it’s beyond me as to who’s a good dog or a bad dog. There’s a dog caught digging and pulled from his little pit, but they all seem to be very good dogs characterized by tongue-lolling doggy grins. It’s like watching Life guards who spot SOMETHING amiss, blowing their whistle frenetically and pulling kids from the pool without anyone being the wiser as to what exactly they were up to.
It’s a beautiful night. By the end of the evening I’m joined by my friend Robin and Joey pops in after a rehearsal and we sit and watch Heather absolutely crush her last set, ending out with an inspired version of Queen’s “Somebody to Love” that sets the audience to cheering and the dogs to barking. A good time is had, bad alcoholic seltzer is imbibed, dogs are scroffled, no poops are stepped in, farewells are said and mischief is bloody well managed.
What a weird night.
