Blogs

We caught a taxi heading for our destination, the Doral Country Club. I was speechless at the traffic. In our valley, rush-hour traffic meant two cars traveling the same direction within ten minutes of each other Here, it seemed, people expected the frenzy. When we arrived at the Doral, a guard checked our reservation at the gate, and as we drove up the road, I poked my head out the car window, breathing in the warm air and peering at the luscious scenery. Miles of green manicured grass were just waiting for me. Ah, life is so beautiful, I thought.

Bacci Bogie - Photo

After Mommy checked us in, we found our room and entered a huge space with marble floors, a large jet bath tub, and an ugly looking creature on the patio. His green color was rather muted, and he had a long tail. He slithered onto the grass. We don’t have creatures like that in Colorado, and I decided I could ignore this beast if the monster stayed outside.



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.

It was too bad we didn’t play golf because that was the reason this place exists. However, as an alternative, Mommy arranged an appointment at the luxurious spa attached to the country club. I looked forward to getting another massage as my back ached a little from the flight.

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.

Actually, my Mommy was a professional Law Enforcement trainer for many years and I got pulled into ‘the business’ by accident. Mom was hired as a training consultant for a police department in South Florida and we would be living in a cool hotel for one month. They had a “no doggy” policy. Canine discrimination if you ask me. It wasn’t the first time I was banned from staying at a hotel, restaurant or club. Mommy asked the Police Chief to intervene on my behalf. Alas, the hotel made an exception although Mommy had to pay a stiff dog deposit.

Bacci Bogie - Photo

After a couple of weeks hanging out in the room, while Mommy, went to work, I was getting bored. The Police Chief agreed to let me come to the police station with Mom for one day. I had to promise to be a good boy and not have an accident on the rug in the training room. As soon as we arrived and the officers saw me, they started making fun of me. They called me “an almost dog” and “rag mop”.


I guess I got my feeling hurt as my rebellious side came out and I thought, “I’ll show them”, lifted my leg and was a bad boy. You would imagine that Mom was furious at me. She asked the officers to keep my ‘accident’ a secret from the Chief and they agreed. The rest of the day went fine. From then on, Mom introduced me to her police friends as an “UNDERCOVER K9 DOG”. Little did I know what was in store for me in my new assumed role. WOOF WOOF