Bacci Bogie - Photo |
While walking down to the busy golf club to catch a snack, people stared, guess I am a head turner. The golf course was packed with people in little carts racing around. The café was also crowded with humans dressed in green and yellow clothes and funny looking shoes. They reminded me of the fishermen along the Frying Pan who dressed the same too. I wondered, why do groups of men dress alike? Humans sure have funny customs.
That evening, we meandered around the grounds as music filled the air. The vibrations of the music led us to a wild party. The inebriated revelers danced to the music, grooving and moving provocatively. Women in sparkling clothes and four-inch platform shoes were having a ball, and I wondered how they danced without falling. Mommy never wore shoes like that. Living in the countryside called for sneakers.
As the music got louder, my paws moved along with my wagging tail. I tapped to the rhythm and was wiggling my tushie when a stunning woman came and held out her arms. Something about her welcomed me, and I timidly accepted the invitation. We danced amid clapping and hoots. My debut at the Doral, at least to my mind, was legendary, my finest hour. Nothing seemed to matter but the beat of the music.
0 comments:
Post a Comment