The Dog Peed on the Dress

At the appointed hour, I listen.

I listen closely for the usual sounds. A car pull up. A door slam. A second door. Do I go outside and greet them immediately? Do I allow them time to gather themselves and greet them as they approach, or does my doorbell need a workout? I wait.

The normal amount of time it takes to approach passes. Curious, I decide to brave the “cold” (50 degrees at night is cold when a coat is not an option). I find the trio still at the hatchback of an SUV, two inside and one outside. I greet the matron of honor, who is standing outside with a look that can only be described as a cross between horror and sheer amusement.

She leans over and whispers to me, “The dog peed on the dress."

More accurately, the tiny, deer-faced chihuahua puppy dog peed on the plastic garment bag that was over the plastic bag that held the dress. The poor thing sat there, shaking like a quivering aspen in the summertime, terrified of the dark or the cold or unfamiliarity of the place. Nothing but 25 minutes of sheer coddling could calm her down to a baseline state of nervous.

Some would say the puppy peed out of fear. To others, the puppy was expressing her of sheer dislike of being drug out of the warm house on a Tuesday night when a brand new episode of the Voice was on.

I think we all know the truth.