What A Swell Party It Was

“Osmun. Wake up!”

“Wah?”

“I heard a thump. You fell out of your bed.”

“Oh, Marion, it’s you. I guess I was dreaming.”

“No wonder. I saw you at the Upperville party last night, scarfing up every morsel you could find. You looked like one of those automatic vacuums that scurry around, inhaling everything not bolted to the floor.”

“It was such a great horse show party,” Osmun said, shaking off the deep sleep cobwebs. “Rather international, don’t you think? While you were chatting with everyone, I was checking out things below. The shoes were awesome! Gucci, Hermes, Tods. Not a pair of sneakers in the bunch. By the way, your jodhpur boots were well-represented tonight. Amazing how they fit right in at a garden party.”

“Don’t talk to me about riding boots!” Marion snapped. “Those low coffee tables made it easy for you to get to everyone’s dirty martini. Some people weren’t finished with their drink and sipped after you had taken a slurp! That is not proper etiquette!”

Osmun shrugged. “It is among canines.”

“Well, it’s not among most humans. Although I suppose it might not bother horse show people as much. But it makes you appear a lush! We left before I could talk to you about your behavior and when we got home, you passed out right in your bed at the front door. That’s probably why you had a bad dream.”

“Oh, my dream! I can’t say it was a bad dream, really. Just vivid!”

“How vivid?”

“Hmmm,” Osmun mused. “I was attending a party and, amazingly, there wasn’t a human in sight. All dogs! And we were wearing clothes. Not just blankets like you have at the store, but real riding apparel. We all had a classic equestrian look and were excited to be going to a horse show party. Horse Country was well represented. Some were wearing tights with mesh panels and breezy overshirts, others wore the pegged britches you go on about and the buckle boots; the hats were fascinating. Sorry…I mean fascinators, all tailored to our canine bodies. And we were wearing fancy collars. Some of us had scarves or silk ties around our necks. All very horsey.”

“Sounds like a nice dream; my kind of party,” Marion agreed.

“Oh, and I was dressed up as a Scottish gentleman! My whiskers were extra-long and sculpted just so. I was wearing one of those tweed flat caps we have in the store. All my daily walking friends were there, outfitted as gents and ladies from different countries. We all were affecting different accents and it was delightful. And then, across the room, I saw her!”

“Who?”

“Fifi! The French Poodle!”

“Oh, brother! I assume this was a miniature Poodle?”

“Good grief, no! She was a big one! And her legs went on forever! She sauntered across the room and we finally faced each other with nothing between us but her cigarette holder and the piano player!”

With an eye roll, Marion said, “I guess that’s when I heard you mutter something like, ‘I get no kick from Champagne.’”

“Catchy, don’t you think? Maybe we could set it to music!”

“Never mind. How did you end up falling out of bed?”

“Well, as the party was maxing out, I looked across the room and there, glaring at us from behind a glass of bubbly, was Mister Fox! My eyes swept past him around the room and realized he was looking straight at Fifi. Before I knew it, a loud ‘Tally Ho!’ escaped me and the hunt was on. All the other dogs turned to chase the fox. Quick as a flash, in a blur of red and white, the fox was out the window, leaving his top hat and monocle on the floor right by the food table. Oh, the gall!”

“You had better avoid those exotic foods and Champagne at horse show parties if you want to sleep well at night.”

“Agreed. Let’s skip the garden party and enjoy some good ol’ summer barbecues. Corn on the cob, ribs. More protein.”

“By the way. What happened to Fifi? She didn’t end up with the fox, did she?”

“Hmmm, now that you mention it, the last thing I remember before you woke me up was finding her cigarette holder on the piano. But she was nowhere in sight. I looked down at the piano player, a pudgy Labrador, and said, ‘Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…’”

“Osmun, you’ve been watching too many American Movie Classics. Go back to sleep.”

“Well, it could have been the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“Sleep!”