Mr. Mop and the Library


It has been a rainy few days here in New York City.  Mr. Mop and Brooklyn do not do well in the rain. Super that most of the time we live in Rainy City.

Anyways, they were cooped up for a couple of days and driving me bananas.  When they are cooped up from the heat it's fine because they are passed out.  But when the temperatures drop, the two of them think it's fun to wrestle FOURTEEN hours a day (and night).

So I knew I had to take them for a sizable walk.

I dragged (yes, actually dragged.  Mr. Mop refused to walk) the two down our misty street.  I was on a mission to get to the library in order to return a few books and pick up my holds.  The library is awesome here in Brooklyn.  Firstly, they almost always have the book you want ready. You can also have it shipped to your nearest library at no cost.  Thirdly, it is in a lovely brick building surrounded by leafy trees and across from Brownstones that are nearly two hundred years old.  This is the clincher.

Anyways, there we were.  A wet trio marching to get the latest installment of the #1 Ladies Detective Agency novels I have finally decided to read. Brooklyn resembled a sewer rat and Mr. Mop looked more like Mr. Mope.

We got to the Cobble Hill library (cute name too!) and I promptly tied the boys to the iron gate.  I assured them I would be very fast.  This did not help the matter.  They were all  in a panic and distraught to be left in the rain.  Looking back, it was quite mean.

In I go.  I grab my books in a nano-second and hand them over to the librarian with my card.  I feel a tap at my bum and promptly glare at the old man shuffling past me.  The I see a flurry of white behind the librarian.  I hear giggles and gasps.  I look down and think, "Oh, there is a dog in the library."

Wait a minute!

It was MY dog in the library!  

Mr. Mop had wiggled himself out of his harness and leash!  And somehow convinced someone to open the door for him!  I mean, who let him in?

I immediately picked him up and apologized to the librarian.  Luckily she was laughing.  And she pointed out that it is lucky he came into the library and didn't run away.

I didn't tell her my dog is such a mental case that his acute separation anxiety makes it so that he is never further than three feet from me if he can help it.

There I am, holding my soggy dog, balancing my books when I hear Brooklyn raising a fuss outside.  For a nine pound animal, he can make enough noise to wake the dead and break glass. His bark is so freaking high-pitched and he was actually squealing. 

You can imagine the stares I got as I walked outside to greet my trembling, soggy, loud dog with my other soggy dog wiggling in my arms.

So Mr. Mop loves the library now.  I wonder if it's the draw of all the Danielle Steele novels or the free use of a computer?

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