#131: dogz + wine, wine + dogz

The second we hit 9 p.m., the deputy turned the scanner's volume back up to full. The expo center (host to the annual Crab+Beer+Wine Festival, 25,000 people expected to attend this year) was closing and buses and cars loaded with the loaded adults of both local and faraway lands would start to pour out to the waiting gardeners--municipal, county and state officers--a harvest of DUIs, DUIIs and all sorts of the criminal mischief attached to the drunken, belligerent disturbers of the peace.

---

Saturday...

...in which I rode a school bus for the first time in my life.

...in which C. and I embarked on a savage journey to the heart of not the American Dream, but rather the Crab+Alcohol Festival. Our burning question: Why in glory do people come to this thing by the thousands? We questioned shady characters like some guy named Gunner who convinced us we needed to try the "6 tastes of red wine for $5" deal at the Girardet booth. Fortunately, we had brought our own glasses.



After we'd had our fill of wine and crowds--highlights included sitting on the unsanitary expo center floor to share a bowl of crab bisque-y type soup, trying to convince a 13 month old party pooper child that she wanted to dance along to the live music--we went outside to catch a shuttle back to civilization. Over half an hour later, we were still waiting for the Salmon Shuttle. So we settled on something that would get us close (I believe it was the Razor Clam Shuttle, but maybe it was Halibut) and took it back to town.

The journey home involved a little used path, a slide zone where the road rolled and pushed up like an old lava pit, and a previously unknown, secret neighborhood.

---

This is what I'm doing until Friday. Taking care of these guys:



There are three of them, but Wally prefers to snake his way under coffee tables, behind couches and under beds so I haven't snapped a decent photo of him yet.

This is Iggy. She is obedient and adoring. Like all good goldens should be.



Next is Toby. Every morning, he gets the dog equivalent of Prozac. As one of his owners told me, "He's the obnoxious one. Unfortunately, he's also the smartest one."

He doesn't know what to do about the camera.



"I must be closer to youuuuuuuuuuuu."