On Saturday we went to a barbecue in the park that was hosted by some friends from MN who also now live in Portland. It was technically their yearly “Bratfest”, which is so perfectly midwest of them. They provided all the brats and tofurkey dogs and everyone else brought side dishes. Definitely took me back to my roots – although I have to say that I may prefer a Portland potluck over a midwest one. There tends to be a bit more fresh and a little less butter…
And here we go AGAIN with the amazing weather. That’s all I’ll say about that.
Since it was in a park, we thought it’d be cool to bring the Gus monster. By park standards, it was fine to bring him. But by socially awkwardness standards, we should have left him at home. We were totally those people with that kid. You know, the kid who’s screaming on the airplane or throwing a tantrum at Target or talking during a movie and the parents are just sort of sort of oblivious. But let’s be clear, we as dog parents weren’t exactly oblivious to Gus’s shenanigans – we’re just used to his eccentricities that apparently terrify/sound alarm to the rest of the population.
There of course was the howling – which happens anytime there is any other animal within a 100 mile radius of Gus. He will bark incessantly until they’re either out of sight or they come over and engage in the tooshie-sniffing dance for 8 whole seconds before Gus gets bored and moves on. It’s a lot of build up to not much actual interaction. But the howling… it’s cute at first because he’s so funny and beagle-y, and then it’s just not. So there was that. Pretty much consistently throughout the afternoon. We got a lot of side-eye action from the fellow brat-goers.
At some point, Casey and I got into a game of bocce ball and midway through we noticed that Gus was doing this… thing… where he snorts uncontrollably. It typically happens when he gets a little too wound up and in this case, I think it was a combination of all the excitement around him + the 80 degree weather because the snorting? It came out in full force. I’m going to say there was at least a solid minute of it. We’re so used to it though that it didn’t really phase us, but there were some other people at the party who were all “he’s overheating!” and “get him some water” and “is he choking?” and Casey and I were all “no”. All the
judgy friendly people learned their lesson when they tried to console Gus, at which point he was suddenly FINE and all up on their plates of brats and in their cups of beer. That boy loves his beer. I mean, it was nice that they were concerned but we unfortunately knew better. Gus is special.
Also, just a little public service announcement. Did you know that if you initially title a blog post “bratfesting” and leave it up on your computer, your co-worker will walk by and think it says breastfeeding? You’ve been warned. You’re welcome.