The dogs themselves tell the whole story.
Some of them, distinctly, like being dressed drag-like, despite how silly they may look. Others are so embarrassed they can’t even look you in the eye.
Take Mr. Kato, the rottweiler for instance. He refuses to wear his black, gabardine coat that makes him look like the Phantom of the Opera. He spends his entire walk taking it off. His owner, finally, respected his wishes, but it took time for him to realize, dogs clearly want their sartorial say.
This morning tooling round Harlem Hill, I saw a French Bull Dog in what looked like a Massoni car coat complete with pockets and turned-up collar, like he was about to stroll down the Champs-Elysees.
His owner, in a little, light jacket, didn’t look remotely as warm.
I ambled over.
“Your doggie is very chic in his coat.”
The man, startled, just stared for a moment. I guess he wasn’t used to some white girl chattin-em up at 7 on a Sunday morning.
“Well, you know there’s a story to her coat…it belonged to a little guy named Gunther who hated it…would attack it whenever it was layin around…my neighbor had spent a lotta money on it from the Sears Catolog. Marlene here, on the other hand, would cuddle up to it whenever she saw it, so it became hers.”
I did not make this up.
On cue, Marlene gave me a look as if to say, Hey, I’m no dummy. It’s cute, it’s warm. Gunther’s an idiot…but what do you expect from a fat, little hot dog.
Yes, Gunther turned out to be a dachshund with a bit of a waist issue, according to Marlene’s father who said, “You can’t feed long dogs too much since they turn into logs right ba-fore your eyes.” I immediately thought of Carmela who’s been looking rather portly round the middle.
I then met a pit called Wally with a bright red sweater he seemed to like. His friend, Cuddles, wearing a stained pink one didn’t appear as happy. Can you blame her? Could we throw that soiled wrap in a a little Clorox please? A girl has her pride you know.
If I had a dog, what would I do…dress him to the nines or let him just be a dog, the fur nature gave him presumably enough.
Who am I kidding…not only would he have his own closet, he’d have a personal charge at Macys happily accruing points to buy that matching hat.