Dear Diary:
Having recently moved to the Upper West Side from raising my children in suburbia and getting divorced, I find that every day in Manhattan is an adjustment in some small way. My girlfriend and I now regularly take our two dogs for long walks on the streets, visits to the many dog parks and, from time to time, a visit to one of the many neighborhood pet stores.
Walking to work around 7:30 the other morning, I had to chuckle when, at 81st and Amsterdam, I saw a smartly dressed woman and her small, white French bulldog at the doorway of our local pet store â€" the dog tugging away, seemingly trying to enter the store, which wouldn’t be open for at least an hour or two.
As I passed, I overheard her saying repeatedly, “No, I’m sorry, honey, but we can’t go in to play with the cat right now; the store’s not open and we’ll have to come back later.â€
My dog knows this cat, too â€" and so it seems that play dates for my children have morphed into play dates for my dogs. I can only imagine what lies ahead for me and for us!
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