This morning, while walking to work in the blowing wet snow, I saw something that made my head hurt. Near a fancy loft condo, there was a woman walking her dog. I’m going to describe each of them in turn:
The Woman: Early thirties, maybe. Well-dressed in VERY high heels, a short skirt (‘professional’ short, not ‘stripper’ short) and a light tweed blazer (low-cut on top, and barely to her waist) over a thin blouse. She was talking on a cellphone and smoking what could only have been a menthol, and she was shivering so much, she looked like she was dancing.
Her Dog: A Chocolate Lab. Not a puppy, but not big enough to be full grown (although he could have been a cross-breed of some sort… I’m not very good at spotting breeds). He appeared to be in perfect health and was quite active, but also well-behaved. He was clad [sigh] in a doggy toque, doggy jacket (it looked like heavy wool… much like a Hudson’s Bay quilt), and heavy duty doggy booties.
It was as though the dog took the time to get himself all bundled up for the weather, and grabbed his master on the way out the door, leaving her no time to prepare. Alas, I know it was the other way around… so she took the time to dress her dog up for the inclement weather (which he is naturally impervious to, with his fur and all) and yet didn’t bother to put on a pair of boots and a decent jacket herself.
This is what it’s like to live in Toronto.