I can't believe the depths to which Phydoux will scoop to get what he wants. I allowed him to get me to take him to a dinner theatre. I'll let him tell you.

Okay, folks, this is rich! I talked my master into getting me in to see a play at the dinner theatre. It took me quite a bit to persuade him to pose as a blind man so I can attend as his guide dog. We got him some sunglasses and a white cane and he looked the part very well. Normally I wouldn’t recommend this but I just had to attend. The play was “The Church Basement Ladies.” Since my master is a minister, I knew this would be great. But it had its problems.

First of all we had to wait in the lobby for them to open the doors. Now this is an experience! First of all there was a group of Red Hat ladies. I was hoping they wouldn’t be close to us. I’m not saying they’re a little crazy but did you even see a dog with tin cans tied to its tail? Yep, some of them acted like that. Others were more like a dog with turpentine on his rearl. Finally, some of they acted like a dog that needed to be wormed. We were lucky. We were clear across the auditorium from them.

Most of the people at such a performance are in two categories – rich and old. What a combination. Oh yes, most of them were pretty fat. It’s a dinner theater, right? They seated my master at a table at the end of a row so that everyone who entered had to pass by him. Now I don’t want to show disrespect, but my master has a pretty good Milwaukee goiter (beer belly). Needless to say, he couldn’t get as close to the table as a skinny person. That means everyone passing behind him felt he was out in the middle of the floor. Under their breath they said, “Why did they put that fat guy there?” At the same time it seems most of them were as wide in the hips as he was deep in the stomach. Can you picture it? When they tried to slide pass him I could hear him say under his breath, “Why are they putting those fat people over there?”

The play was good. Let me remind you the crowd was primarily old and rich and fat. Several rows behind us were a man and a woman talking loudly. That was irritating enough but the people around them were trying to shush them so loud that we couldn’t hear anything. This seemed to take place at the beginning of each act.

When it was over the herd of turtles began to move toward the door. Picture a group of old, fat, arthritic people weaving back and forth without moving forward very fast. When they reached the lobby, a group of them stood side by side across the entire lobby. This left only one small place to get through. Just as we got to the small space for passing through, a woman spun around and stepped in front of us.

Outside the building were an army of tour busses. At this point the people started moving in all directions like billiard balls that had just been struck. As a dog, I became very fearful of getting run over. We slowly wove our way through the congestion and reached our car. Now I had one more fear — those who aren’t riding tour busses are driving cars! This made my ears stand on end. They don’t see well. They have the car seat so far from the steering wheel that they can’t reach the brake very easily. Their reflexes are very, very slow. I started to pray:
“Now I sit me in this car
in a group of people who can’t see far
if we should wreck before the gate
dear lord, forgive me for all my hate. Amen.

Well, we made it. I survived this trauma and I will never, never, never go to a play disguised as a guide dog again. I think I’ll be content to sit at the computer and do my emails – even if I have suspect old “Iscratchfleas” of being an mole for the dog catcher. I think that is safer.