The Snow Prints Formal
Nice moves! Who knew that a Doberman Pincher could dance like that? It was the annual Snow Prints Formal and everyone was dressed to the nines. Ralphie and The Howlers, a local cover band, were playing and the dance floor was covered with paws cut out from paper. There were streamers, glitter, and balloons everywhere. How cool!
We got there a bit late. Abbey wanted to look perfect and we had to wait for her toenails to dry. Why dogs need nail polish, I’ll never know. Gregio was in his festive, party mood and decided to rebel by wearing a t-shirt under his coat jacket. We ran into Mea and some other friends at a near table.
“What’s the matter with Zoey?,” Abbey asked as we approached. Zoey was holding her head with her paws, and her head was tucked onto her chest. Deja had her paw over her and was rocking her back and forth.
“She went to go see the new Avatar movie,” Stella began. “Know how dogs can see colors? This 3D experience gave her sensory overload. It was an explosion of colors and she has a migraine.”
Ralphie, a Boston Terrier, finished his last song and came over to our table.
“Great set, Ralphie,” Deja said. “Do you take requests?”
“Of course, of course,” the Terrier chuckled. Luckily for him, he was already dressed in a tuxedo. His markings made it so.
“You’re short a Howler tonight, huh?,” I noted.
“Yeah, Chucky took the night off,” Ralphie sighed. “We’re without our soprano. You know how dogs can sense if a human is sick and won’t leave their side until they’re better? Well, that’s what happened to Chucky.”
“I know!,” Abbey said excitedly. “This woman that I was living with before I came here was going to have a baby and I guarded her until she had the baby boy.”
“It’s almost like humans are therapeutic for us,” Deja said without lifting her head from comforting Zoey. “It’s like we have an extra sense for helping them out.”
That got me thinking. If we have these additional senses to help humans, maybe we here at school have additional senses to talk, be rational, and do the things we do. Those powers, if you will, could have only come from that canine god that Gianluca was talking about.
“The band’s back from their break, and I need to get back,” Ralphie said. “Who wants to hear Atomic Dog by George Clinton?”
We all scurried to the dance floor to get down with the P-Funk master. Abbey joined the group and asked me to dance. Afterwards, the band began to do Jingle Bell Rock.
“Merry Christmas, Louie, and good will towards dogs,” she said meekly. “Men and women too.”