Friday, June 28, 2013

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Where are you pooping?


Summer vacation for us means that we are going out to eat.  Fred recently celebrated his 60th birthday and he received a lovely present of a Visa gift card of $60 dollars, which we decided to use at the Sand Pearl Resort to have a nice lunch out.

Fred and Coach relax by the player piano at the Sand Peal Resort in Clearwater.
The Sand Pearl is pretty hoity-toity and even though it is a dressy place, we decided that we would take Coach with us.  After all, he is 15 months old.  Old enough to go poo beforehand and know how to behave himself in a restaurant.  Right?

We decided that we would park a bit of a distance away from the Pearl and walk in just to make sure that he had a chance to poo.  We walked out to lone bit of grass that bordered the entrance to the beach and Coach did his little circle dance.  It was a three twirler.  Oh my!

We walked up to the Sand Pearl with confidence.  Our boy had pooped.  We were poop free and ready to eat and experience the high life.  (And people wonder why we don't go out much! 8-)

After walking through the lobby, we encountered the player piano.  It was doing an admirable job of toodling through some barely recognizable tunes, so I had Fred and Coach stand beside it for a photo.  Coach didn't see too impressed with it.

Lunch was delicious.  The hostess was very impressed with Coach.  Coach was on his best behavior and entered and exited with calm assurance.  Nicely done, Coach!


Dinner was different.  We decided to take Jammers with us and go coatless and more informal: to the Dunedin Smokehouse!

Now, we love the Smokehouse for several reasons

  1. They have amazing wings.
  2. They have a great beer selection (Magic Hat)
  3. Our favorite waitress is there (Lisa) and she loves Coach and Jam
  4. They have a big patio that allows dogs 
  5. All the staff brings water bowls
  6. Coach in coat is treated like a king
  7. The rest of their food rocks too!
So, it's a natural for us to go there with the boys.  We usually pick a table by the railing and under the awning and since they had the fan on, by the fan.  We were lucky.  We got all three tonight:

  • Table by the railing
  • Table in the shade
  • Table right in front of the fan!
The boys were out of everyone's way.  It was cool, the wings were hot, the beer was cold.  Awesome.

And then, the poodle man showed up.


It was a family.  A mom, two middle school kids and a dad.  They had a poodly-doodly thing.  But essentially, Dad was a poodle man.  I saw them coming down the sidewalk and I knew trouble was coming in caramel curls.

Poodle man peeled off from the pack and pulled the doodle into the empty field that sits next to the Smokehouse.  The empty field that borders the railing along which we were sitting. Jam had spotted them.  He sat up.  

"Hmmmmmm." I said.  Grrrrrr was what I was thinking.  Poodle man was walking up the empty field following the railing like a trail. His doodle was sniffing around.  Jam was standing now.  Mind you, we are eating.  "Fred," I said.  "Grab Coach. This man is bringing his dog!"

And poodle man stops.  Doodle stops.  And the world stops. 

Jam thrusts his whole head through the bars of the railing in an attempt to get to the doodle.  He makes it to his shoulders.  He is straining.  The doodle is straining too, but it is of a different sort.  

"Oh my God!" I am actually hissing. "Fred! Is that dog pooping?"


I turn back around and poodle man has a baggy out to scoop up the offending poo.  I cannot catch his eye to scald him with my irritated look.

"Really?" I turn to Fred. "Really?!"

Fred with Jam and Coach sitting at his feet as Fred frowns thinking
about the rude customer at the Dunedin Smokehouse.

 Of all the places to walk your dog to poo, you walk him in front of the people with dogs, who are eating in a restaurant.  You had an entire empty field.  And you chose to have him poop 2 feet from our table.

Really? I. Don't. Have. The. Words.

If only I was Amy Poehler.

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