Dorothy Needs an iPod

Sometimes I think that if Dorothy had a personal soundtrack, when we went outdoors it would be playing “It’s a Wonderful World.”  We’d step out the front door and hear Louis Armstrong’s voice begin to sing:

I see trees of green, red roses too

I see them bloom, for me and you

And I think to myself

What a wonderful world

I see skies of blue, and clouds of white

The bright blessed day, dark sacred night

And I think to myself

What a wonderful world

I’ve mentioned before in this blog that Dorothy has fans.  And these fans can make our many daily walks slightly surreal.  I am constantly having to act as Dorothy's publicist, and I admit to having moments where I wish I could walk a few blocks without having to have a conversation with strangers.  (This morning at 6:15 a.m., for example, the guy driving the Red Bull delivery truck came running across the street to meet Dorothy; it turns out he was trying to decide between getting an English Bulldog, an Olde English Bulldogge, or an American Bulldog.  I had been awake at that point in the day for approximately six minutes, so I'm not sure my explanations were coherent; however, I think Dorothy’s kisses might have just tipped the scale.)

But I was wondering the other day what it must be like from Dorothy’s point of view.  She walks out her door to do her business.  She walks a few feet – maybe, sometimes she doesn’t even get that far – and someone is stopping to kneel down and greet her and get kisses from her.  We move on and sure enough, admirer #2 is asking me if he can pet my dog.  Dorothy obliges some more.  A few additional feet:  a person in a car pulls up to ask a question about her.  A child stops to give her a scritch.  And I continue to hear Louis:

The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky

Are also on the faces, of people going by

I see friends shaking hands, sayin', "How do you do?"

They're really sayin', "I love you"

I’m thinking Dorothy must by now have quite a sense of self-worth.

Maybe I’m wrong about the music though.  While I’m hearing Louis, maybe Dorothy is hearing “Who let the dogs out?” or “I feel pretty”.  She could be referencing the BeeGee’s “I can tell by the way you use your walk” as she struts, marching to Sousa, or doing a bit of headbanging to Zeppelin.  Since we all know her distaste towards her leash and collar, she could very well be humming a few lines from King Missile:  “There is a collar around my neck.  There is a leash in her hand.”  And then she has to stop short when the song converges with her reality.

Then it might follow that it is not the treat in my hand that makes her start walking again, but the opening phrase of “Flight of the Bumblebee.”  At any rate, Dorothy walks, I click the clicker and dispense the treats, the song begins.

Dorothy, a few days ago, with "I Feel Pretty" stuck in her head

Dorothy, ten weeks olde, humming a lullabye