Work has needed me so much lately that five days of Oscar in a row isn’t enough for them. It’s no problem for me because I love being a busy-ness dog and all the attention that it gets me from my collies (it’s not as fun for Mom, who gets stressed out when so many collies give her attention). Working is different on the weekends. I can leave my tie at home and Mom can wear her sweatpants, which is all she ever wants out of life anyway.
This morning we got up a little later than usual, and Mom packed her sweatpants in her Jim bag, and we drove to The City. We run in The City about once a week, but it’s different on a normal day because the only people we see along the Little Water are stray humans napping or talking to their imaginary friends, office humans staring at the backs of their sunglasses and talking to their imaginary friends, and runners like us not talking to anybody. Today there were runners just like always, but the stray humans were awake, and the workers had been replaced with tourists waiting for the boat to Alcatraz and asking each other if the bridge was being painted. The tourists lined up across the sidewalk like bowling pins for me to run through them and cause selfies they would never forget. The runners ran with big smiles on their faces, holding their phones out in front of them like prizes, and when I looked at their screens I swear I could see Their Witches inside their phones smiling back. Mom says that’s called Facetime and it’s really not a good idea and kind of rude to do while running in a crowded place. I darted through all of the tourists right behind Mom, looking around to catch any passing Future Oscar Fan’s eye, and smiling like Facetime.
When we were almost finished, and running through the place where only the runners and strays go, Mom looked at a stray man who was sitting on a sunny bench and shaving his face. “Well you don’t see that every day,” Mom said.
“What? A lot of man-people shave their faces. They look like poodles if they don’t.”
“Yeah, but not usually their eyebrows,” Mom said.
Oscar the Busy-ness Dog