Celeste and I just came back from the vet's office, where she got her first series of shots and a dose of de-wormer. I have no car, so we walked...well, I walked, she rode. The vet's office is about 10 blocks from our apartment building, with 2 major 4 lane streets to cross. We started out about 11 am, and hoofed it across San Filipe and Salaverry Avenues dodging the crowds of lunch-goers and then continued on down to the market area, where the veterinarian has his office/store. Throughout this little trek, Celeste rode in my arms like a queen in her carriage...regal, stoic, an occasional parade wave of her tail; she greeted her subjects with grace and a dainty little slobber on a priviledged cheek or nose. Her "subjects" were 4 or 5 older ladies out for a walk, a mother and her little daughter, and several street vendors. Each of them made such a fuss, gushing about her blue eyes, her tiny feet, her kissable little nose; comments about her beauty and inquiries as to her age and breed flew so thick I thought I might choke on them. I had no idea she would create the kind of stir in the market that she did. It took us 10 minutes longer to get to the vet's office because of it.
The vet was duly and fashionably 20 minutes late, so we took a seat in the outer area of the office, where dogfood, and pet accessories are sold. One of the stock boys there spoke some broken English, and we got into a conversation about Peru, the US, dogs, and pretty much covered the state of both countries in about 10 minutes. Celeste joined the conversation at certain times, voicing her opinions with short, high-pitched squeals and yodels. I had no idea that was how she communicated, other than screaming in the middle of the night or the occasional growl and regular bark while we are playing. The veterinarian arrived shortly, and turned out to be a jovial, competent fellow, pleasant and good with Celeste, in spite of her screeching when she got her shot. We left the office happy.
The trip back was somewhat less time consuming, but we stopped in the market to buy bologna and cookies. The aroma of bologna nearly made Celeste swoon, and then she tried to scramble out of my arms into the display case containing the lunch meat, plowing into the glass on the outside of the case. Not very queenly demeanor, I thought. She garnered a kiss on the nose from a fellow customer at the lunch meat stall. On we went, to buy the cookies, and were met by another fan, an elderly lady with a soft smile and a freckled cheek, upon which Celeste bestowed a dainty lick. The lady giggled and trotted off to attend to her own shopping.
On the way home, Celeste began to squirm in my arms, so I looked for a likely place to put her down, away from traffic, so she could find a place to squat. The little queen searched and searched, but never did find a suitable newspapery toilet, so I scooped her back up and we beat feet for home. As soon as we got in the door, we headed for the utility room, and thankfully, newspapers.
Ahhhh...relief at last. Thank the heavens and the sun, moon, and stars above for newspapers. All is right with the world.
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