Don’t look now….here he comes.

Written By: Michael O'Reily

Don’t Look Now….Here He Comes

While on the ARF Garden Tour a few years ago, I noticed two young, fit and stylish gentlemen of the homosexual persuasion with a brand new puppy who appeared to be on his very first outing. (The garden tour allowed dogs at that point.)

They looked like one big happy family except for the fact that they were allowing their otherwise adorable puppy to continually bark at a swan standing near a pond. Ever the diligent citizen and excellent in a crisis, I raced over to let them know that this was not a good idea.

Eyes bulging to enhance my point, I warned, “ Don’t let your dog annoy the swan. I just saw in The Post that Donna Karan’s terrier was killed by a swan in Central Park”.

Looking suspicious of my story and a little perturbed to be pestered by a middle aged gentleman, also of the homosexual persuasion, they scooped up the puppy and continued on their tour of the garden. A little put out that they hadn’t complimented me on my new Lily Pulitzer shorts, I strolled the gorgeous grounds, feeling very pleased that I had once again saved the day.

Arriving at the next house (which was lovely by the way….they always are… sure and go on the tour next year), who do I see but the same puppy being greeted by a dog that had viciously attacked our dog a few years earlier. You see, my partner and I had been invited to a friend’s party a couple of years ago where you were encouraged to bring your dog. Delighted at the chance to show off our pug, Margeaux van Bobby (who is excellent in social settings, by the way) we happily accepted the invitation. Sporting new pearls and eager to mix and mingle, Margeaux jauntily entered the front yard where the party was taking place. Graciously accepting caresses and compliments and having a grand old time, Margeaux was the center of attention and couldn’t have been happier. She seemed to not have a care in the world…..a true sign of an excellent, well-bred guest. With that, a dog that I’ll call Buster (not his real name…..his owners read Dan’s religiously) came racing over and began to attack her. It seems Margeaux was getting a tad too much attention for Buster’s taste. Springing into action, I grabbed Buster and threw him a few feet across the yard, thereby creating quite a scene. An otherwise delightful summer soiree came to a screeching halt. And I mean screeching….Margeaux and I were quite vocal about the fact that we weren’t happy about what had just transpired. At the request of the appalled hostess, Buster’s owners sheepishly escorted him into the house and closed the door. I later learned that they had been down this road before with Buster and hadn’t heeded the suggestion that he be left at home.

Armed with this knowledge of Buster’s past, I charged over to the unwitting new dog owners and said, “Don’t let your puppy near that dog. He tried to kill Margeaux van Bobby a few years ago.” Needless to say, Buster’s owners did not look pleased and pretended not to remember me. Nice try, ladies.

Without so much as a “Thank you for saving our new puppy’s life for the second time on the same ARF Garden Tour”, the dashing young gays picked up their puppy and dashed off.

Smarting that I hadn’t been properly acknowledged for my efforts, I gamely continued on the tour. Arriving at the next house, who do I see but the new puppy owners themselves? As their luck would have it, we were following the same route on the tour.

Straightening my posture in advance of our upcoming conversation (I had just read somewhere that it makes one appear younger) and thinking, “This is perfect. Now the ever so chichi puppy owners will have an opportunity to properly thank me for my heroic efforts for the greater part of this afternoon”, I then pivoted in their direction so they would be sure and notice me.

The instant they saw me, they scooped up their little sissy dog and literally ran down the long (and perfectly manicured) driveway to their car. They didn’t even finish looking at the garden.

I guess some people are just shy when it comes to saying thank you.