On Being Buddy

Buddy, Noah and I went out for pizza Saturday night. We picked a place on the square in Denton mostly because it is near Beth Marie's Ice Cream Shop.

Buddy was fired up for pizza. That is until I parked in front of the ice cream place thinking we'd just walk across the square to the pizza place. Now, Buddy isn't a fit thrower, and he didn't on this occasion, but he was adamant that since we were going to get ice cream that it makes perfectly good sense to go into the ice cream shop if that's where we parked.

So when we did get to the pizza place, Buddy wasn't quite as fired up seeing as he was so ice creamless. Some root beer helped.

Our pizza had black olives on it. Buddy will not eat the tires no matter if you call them olives and eat a bunch to show him that they are, in fact, food.

He eventually did eat a piece of pizza, which is a light meal for him. Out the door he was suddenly recharged. Holding hands to cross the street. Running and jumping in the grass of the courthouse. He even sat down and trusted that Noah, waiting in line, would actually bring him a chock-o-let ice cream.

While there, a blind woman came in with her seeing eye dog. A couple kids went to pet it, but somewhere along the way Buddy must have learned that most folks with seeing eye dogs would rather you didn't be all kid-like with their dog. Not sure where he learned it, but he was telling us that you don't play with blind dogs.

Later, at home, we found out that Buddy LOVES The Three Stooges.

All told, it was a good day.