ArchivesPosts Tagged ‘Theodore’


As told to Kimberly, by Theodore the Service Dog:

“The Pumpkin Patch can be a challenging venue for even the most intrepid dogs…

…so, I suggest you arrive with your humans, since solo dogs are likely to be shooed away like bothersome gnats,

and nobody likes that. 

Stay with your pack, initially, and use this time to get the lay of the land.

Don’t…even for a moment…consider lifting your leg, anywhere on or near a pumpkin.  Doing so will get you and your whole human clan tossed, post haste, and you know where that will leave you. 

And no, you don’t need an actual dog house to be in the ‘dog house’ if you know what I mean. 

So avert your eyes while imagining all the places you’ll pee when you get out of the joint, and save your giddy ‘marking’ enthusiasm for later.

Don’t chase the resident cat, either.  He’s a feisty little sucker and he’ll kick your arse before you can turn tail and run in the opposite direction, and do you really want to be known as the THAT DOG who got his arse kicked by the wee grey cat?


Take note,

those creepy-life-size-straw-people are called Scarecrows.

Yes, they’re intimidating.  Indeed, their shabby garments flap menacingly in the wind. But they are meant to scare birds, not dogs. 

And you’re not a bird, are you? So, Dog Up!  Adopt a haughty look and pretend that they’re your dutiful, sartorially-challenged minions.

Or, if the fear persists, take cover in the reeds and brambles. 

Don’t worry about looking like a woose.  Just stand very very still. Breathe deeply through your nose.  Draw back your ears.

And repeat the mantra:

I am a dog. And I am fearless!

Or if that fails, cry like a baby.

And your human will undoubtedly come to your rescue.


(The photo above for illustration purposes only. I wouldn’t be caught dead crying in a pumpkin patch.)

Now, once you’ve gotten a hold of yourself, you might as well snurfle about.

The twisted, decaying vines may yield a pumpkin-y sort of sweetness…

If your chewing reverie leaves you suddenly lost and separated from your humans, seek out other friendly souls for comfort and direction.  They often wear illustrations of dogs on their sweetly striped pink tops, paired with pink leggings, pink trainers, pink tutus and topped off by pink scrunchies.

I know you’re color blind.

But trust me on this.

Meanwhile, scan the horizon with eyes and nose for a clue about which direction to head. 

If you hear a giggle that sounds familiar…like the one that belongs to one of your human cousins, then you know you’re on the right track!

Miniature cowboys wrangling pumpkins?

Also a good sign.

And what did I say about chasing the resident cats?

Oh, fine, do what you will.

But do not dictate letters of complaint to your humans to send to me, detailing your various humiliations at the paws of some feline you couldn’t resist terrorizing.

I don’t read my mail anyway.

That’s my human’s job…I have better things to do…



How do you know when you’re a true New Yorker?

You’re a true New Yorker when you realize that you’re willing to walk from Battery Park to Midtown, the Lower East Side to the West Village, Uptown to Downtown, without a thought.  But when you visit other cities, that are not ‘walking’ cities, strolling any farther than your car to the grocery store entrance seems like a major pain in the arse. It’s an urban paradox that I don’t bother to question but simply accept.

Theo and I walk everywhere, and when we’re away from the city, it’s our daily constitutionals that I miss the most.  The combination of Dogs + Walks + NYC has proven to be a magical one.  Theo knows the minute we step out the door that we’re bound to meet someone new and interesting, so he flashes his megawatt smile which is no less than a tractor beam that few dog-friendly folks can resist.

A great many of my closest friends (and Theo’s) were folks I initially encountered while in the company of Theo or one of his predecessors.

Lovely Fern…

And Sweet Leo…

…are two wonderful examples of dogs with remarkable, loving, fascinating humans, whom we would not have met, were it not for our mutual dog-love and the openness of our Big City streets.

Around every corner is a dog with a story, and a corresponding human, willing to translate.

Many moons ago, I relented when a bachelor friend of mine asked to borrow Theodore for the day. He had split with his girlfriend a few months prior and it occurred to him that his buddy Theo was just the chick magnet he needed. How could I deny him access to my furry kid’s undeniable charms?  Later that day, he returned Theodore to me with a broad smile and a sparkle in his eyes.  Theo had proven to be the perfect wing man, and I have no doubts that some kind of negotiation involving extra snacks, and belly rubs transpired between them. Dog + Walk + NYC had worked its magic yet again.

I always find Theodore’s perspective refreshing. When he takes a break to watch and meditate on the beauty of the city, I dutifully follow his lead.

And Spring walks also mean puppies galore, like this sweet ball of sunshine named, Hudson, whom we encountered in Battery Park…

And Spring cleaning is in full force, too.

Check out this Ralph Lauren club chair that Theo found abandoned in Tribeca. With a half plaintive half demanding look, he indicated that he expected me claim it and haul it back to our digs, but I quickly nixed that idea and mentioned something about bedbugs, which he countered with something that sounded like ‘wimp’ under his doggy breath.

But no matter where we go, our walks always prove fruitful.

Most of all, we love the idea that at every moment, somewhere in this melting pot we call the Big Apple, dogs are connecting strangers in a place known for its sharp edges and harsh realities…

Indeed, Dogs + Walks + NYC = All Good Things. Whoever said I was bad at math?