A 16-hour soaking rain washes away our plans for a romp in the dog
park. Wet sandy soil loves curly poodle hair. I don't like sandy
So we leash up the pups for a brisk walk around Florida's Topsail Hill Preserve instead.
As we circle casually, a red car creeps up behind us and we hear, "We
just had to come over. He wouldn't stop whining until we did!" We
turn and see a Royal (very big) Standard Poodle leaning out the back
window of the red car, whining with excitement to see our dogs, who
are also Royal (very big) Standard Poodles.
Our dogs wiggle wildly to see him.
The red car pulls over and out leaps Nickie (leashed), who runs over
to play with our boys, Jake and Josh. The scene these three very large
dogs make draws quite a crowd. But wait. This crowd isn't just
watching. From its midst springs a fourth Royal (very big and hairy)
Standard Poodle. His name is Pierre.
So, in an instant, we have four very big dogs and 10 people connected
with them (one dog has six to himself) milling about the street
attracting more gawkers. Including a fifth Poodle, but this one is
tiny, about the size of one of our guys' heads. Her name was Francis.
We exchange pleasantries and collect our big guys to pose for
pictures. If someone sends me a copy, I'll post it here.
The Poodle Convention doesn't last long. As quickly as it begins, it
ends. And as I walk away, it dons on me that few things in life turn
strangers into friends without cause faster than kids and dogs.