Come To My Party. Barks and Stinky Kisses, The DOG

Over the past week and a half, there's been an invitation burning a hole in my inbox. I still haven't sent my regrets... er, reply to the hosts, mostly because I just can't take it seriously.

According to the e-mail, it's a birthday party hosted by two DOGS for their owner at a restaurant that ironically does not allow dogs. You heard me. Two dogs.

Not only do these priceless pups have their OWN e-mail address as indicated by the "from" line, apparently they are also capable to making reservations. I was urged to reply soon, so that could "let the restaurant know how many to expect. Ruff-ruff"...

What's even stranger is that this is probably the third or fourth party in my ADULT life that I've been invited to that has either been hosted by or thrown in honor of... A DOG.

While I do not own any pets, I can understand what the fuss is all about. They're cute. They're loyal. They're always so very happy to see you. Heck, that's more than I can say about certain people...

Nevertheless, I think throwing parties for them (particularly ones that you invite co-workers and casual acquaintances to attend) is just plain WEIRD!

Perhaps my opinion has something to do with that fact the people who have invited me to their "puppy parties" and "schnauzer soirées" have never been very nice to other human beings nor all that stable... emotionally. Not a generalization, just an observation from my life.

The first time I was invited to a doggy party, I was the new girl at my very first job out of college. A junior account executive at a real advertising agency!!! I was so anxious to please, especially my whack-job, spinster, bull dog of a boss who liked to yell at me over the four cubes that separated us.

I came into work one morning to find a plain white envelope on my desk. I was so excited to find that it was addressed to ME in my boss' handwriting.

Was it a bonus?
Was it concert tickets? (you get those occasionally when you're in advertising)
Was is a note of appreciation for all my hard work and good deeds?

Nope. It was a handwritten invitation to a party, not for herself or a co-worker, but rather for her DOG... and it was being given by her other dog. Upon a closer inspection, I noticed that the envelope was actually decorated in paw prints. Nice.

I wanted to get out of going, but unfortunately it was happening over a lunch break and at her house which was only a few miles away from the office. Of course, I had to be there. Remember, young, eager to please, STUPID. At least, I wouldn't be wasting a perfectly good evening or a weekend to attend...

The invitation specified to wear "black and white" to the party. Unsure if this was an attempt to make the affair more formal, I just did as I was told (as usual) and went to work the day of the party looking like a cater waiter in my plain white shirt and black pants.

I later found out that we were supposed to dress in black and white because that is the color of the birthday pup's fur. Yup, we were supposed come to the party dressed like her DOG. (pausing for your laughter... now)

On the way to the office, I stopped at a grocery to complete my next level of obsequiousness... buying a gift. I had no idea what to get. I didn't have a dog and I'm pretty sure this one had everything she could possibly want or need.

I settled on a box of bacon-flavored Milkbones, because who doesn't L-O-V-E bacon, and "Pupperonis", because I liked the clever name. I also grabbed a gift bag, tissue paper, and a CARD, then made my way to the checkout counter trying to hide how stupid I felt being at a grocery store at 8:30 in the morning purchasing dog treats and gift supplies like it was some sort of emergency.

I especially remembered getting agitated because ahead of me in line was a frazzled mommy holding her baby and taking "too long" purchasing diapers and formula. Ah, the pay back...

As lunchtime approached, I gathered my co-workers and headed to my boss' house for the party. On the ride there, we speculated what her home might be like. I mean we knew that she liked Prada shoes, kept a messy desk, and was addicted to Diet Coke, but absolutely nothing about her personal life. Well, except that she regarded her dogs with utmost respect and admiration, of course...

As I was driving, I had trouble with the directions as they included lines like "once you get to the third U-turn, joggle to the right and the house should be there". Umm, what's a "joggle"? I let the intern ponder that one, but it turns out it wasn't too hard to find the place after all...

It was the house with the front yard covered in oversized black and white bows! How utterly insanely exciting!

After a clamor of crazy barking, our boss greeted us at the front door with her two meticulously-groomed cocker spaniels. Noodle was the birthday girl and the other, Ravioli, was the host of the party.

Out of sheer excitement over their guests, both dogs immediately jumped on the furniture and continued barking. My boss asked us to quickly avert our eyes. Apparently, if we looked DIRECTLY at the dogs while they were on the furniture, the thrill of such attention would be much too much for their tiny bladders to bear and they would pee all over everything.

For the rest of the party, anytime the dogs got near the furniture, we had to avert our eyes... and yes, it was incredibly awkward trying to avoid making eye contact with a dog. Especially, when you're there specifically for the dog.

My boss showed use around her house. It was a nice home, large enough for a her and her two dogs, each of which has ITS OWN ROOM. Our tour ended in the living room where we we were greeted by the other party guests, and I noticed something even more disturbing--this party was layer with another theme besides "Black and White Peeing Dogs".

This was also a N*Sync party. Everywhere there were N*Sync tablecloths, N*Sync party horns, N*Sync buttons, N*Sync confetti, N*Sync paper plates, N*Sync napkins...

Anything that you could purchase with N*Sync branded on it, it was there. I assume that this was chosen as a theme because the dog was turning 11 years old and what 11 year old in 2003 wouldn't have wanted an N*Sync party?

Was N*Sync even still cool in 2003? I forget. Of course, being that Noodle was 11 "people years" meant that she was actually 77 "dog years", so I guess it doesn't really matter.

Surprisingly, the cake was not "in sync" with the N*Sync-theme (sorry), but was instead decorated with "Lilo and Stitch". Upon closer inspection, I noted that Stitch was covered in black and white frosting to resemble the birthday dog. No clue.

After lunch, we gathered to watch the dogs open their presents. As expected, it was all chew toys, treats, and bones. As I took a look around the living room, I noticed a couple things:

1. There were probably about thirty to forty framed photos scattered throughout the room, but except for my boss there weren't other people actually in them. They were all pictures of her and her dogs frolicking on vacation, playing at the park, posing for the previous year's holiday card...
   
   
2. The dog already had a huge bin full of chew toys and bones. Two of these chew toys or as my boss (not me) called them, "Jew Toys", drew my attention... One was a big fuzzy dreidel, which played the Dreidel Song ("Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel, I made you out of clay...) and the other was a fuzzy menorah that played "Hava Nagila".
   

It then occurred to me that not only was my boss Jewish, but she probably considered her dogs to be Jewish, as well. Perhaps I shouldn't have got the bacon-flavored Milkbones... Yikes!

Well, I wish that had been the end of my ordeal. When my boss returned to the office the following day, I found myself having to make small talk with her on the way to a meeting and what else was there to talk about but THE DOGS!!! Yippy-skippy!

So I politely listened to how much they LOVED the toys and bones and doggie treats, how EXCITED they were that we could all attend the party, and how DRAMATICALLY the dogs fought over everything.

Apparently, this wasn't the first time they had battled for "alpha pup". My boss admitted that their fighting had once escalated to the point of driving her to tears--yes, actual quality weeping. So, she took them to, what else? A pet psychologist, of course!

For over $200/hour, she said the intensive therapy not only helped them deal with their "anger issues", also instilled in them a sense of "decency and respect". My boss assured me that they are in a fact well-mannered pups who only happen to pee on the furniture when other people show up.

See, they even sent a thank you card and rather promptly, as I may recall.