Posted by: ktzefr | August 25, 2014

Coffee House Conversations: Boomers and Dogs

Butterfly; DFawcettTwo boomers.  Men.  One with a tall latte.  One with cafe au lait.  Boomer A is dressed in black sweats and flip flops.  Wire-rimmed specs.  B’s wearing a red IZOD shirt.  Polished loafers, no socks.  Robert Redford hair.

From the other side of the cafe, you would guess they’re having an intellectual discussion.  World affairs, perhaps.  A likes to gesture a lot.  B leans over the table, appears to be listening intently. 

Dogs.  That’s what they’re discussing.  The incredible ability of dogs to smell stuff, their noses being 900 times more powerful than the human nose. 

Boomer A walks his dogs every morning, but he can’t get much exercise because they stop every few feet to sniff. 

“They know other dogs in the neighborhood,” says A.  “They can tell who’s peed in a particular spot.”

“Really?” says B.

“If some dog is not feeling well, they can tell that, too.”

“No kidding.”

“It’s like me reading the paper every morning,” says A.  “The walk, I mean.”

B squirms a little in his chair.  “How so?”

“Every yard and street corner is different.  A different section, if you will.  The park.  That’s different, too.”

B stares into his cup.  Uses the mini spoon to scoop foam from around the rim. The barista has decorated his latte with a floating foam heart that he’s said is “too pretty to drink.”

(This is what I want to know: what on earth is the connection between the dogs taking a walk and this man reading his newspaper?)

A continues.  “Take this big corner lot at the end of my block.  Has two soccer goals in the front yard. We call that the sports section.”

“Who does?”

“I do.  The dogs.  We call that yard the sports section.  You know, like I said, their morning walk is like me reading the newspaper.  Different sections and all that.  Routine.”

“Okayyy,” says B. 

(Analogies.  Finger is to hand as petal is to flower.  Poet is to poem as baker is to pie.  A dog lifting its leg on a soccer goal is like a man reading the sports section…nay.)

A young woman jogs by the window.  Hot pink top.  Black shorts.  Pony tail swinging side to side.  A dalmatian running alongside her.

“Now that’s what you ought to do,” says B.  “Run with those dogs and they won’t have time to stop and sniff.”

Somewhere in the world, all over the world, people are making big decisions, life-altering decisions.   But not here.  Not today.




  1. Such a deep, image and thought provoking story
    … did you see that old lady sitting in the window seat at the game? She crinkled her nose when the team mascot was escorted onto the sidelines…
    Ok.. so I let my imagination carry me away
    …”always a dreamer” I love it!

  2. Your blog is one of the most intriguing I’ve seen. I will visit often in an effort to absorb al that I can.

    • Thanks Runaway…happy that you enjoy my blog!

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