Lately the weather in NYC has been more unpredictable than normal. Yesterday temperatures dipped into the thirties. I wore a lightweight leather coat and shivered. Today temperatures hovered in the fifties. I wore my big down coat and sweated. Poochini didn't mind, though. And neither did the hundreds of people converging on the Columbus Circle Christmas market. They squeezed tightly into the narrow lanes of the bazaar. Each temporary shop was topped with a candy cane awning, each peddling unnecessary but tempting items: mittens shaped like bear claws, melt in your mouth chocolate truffles (based on a family recipe), Christmas ornaments, overpriced spices, and costume jewelry with semiprecious stones. People stood on line for bratwurst, gluhwein, pretzels, empanadas, thai satay, and belgian waffles (representative of the Big Apple melting pot).
Poochini braved the hordes, and was rewarded with a pretzel that someone had dropped on the ground. We made slow progress, not just because of the crowds, but because Poochini is a social magnet. What kind of dog is that, people asked. I replied proudly, the Best Kind, and then filled in details: a corgie sheeba mix. Then the inevitable (true, not boasting): what a great combination! Is he friendly? Boy is he ever, my usual reply. So Poochini got a lion's share of loving this afternoon. Even on the subway, with his head sticking out of a purple bag (subway rules-- pets must be in a bag), people couldn't resist smiling at his adorableness.
Now he is lying on the floor, one pooped Pooch after the afternoon's excitement. And I am left thinking, as I often do, what a great choice I made in adopting him (true, even after I discovered just yesterday that he had a gastrointestinal accident on my shoes-- they were old anyway and needed to be thrown away). Amazing that one little creature, just by being his friendly self, can change a life (mine), and bring joy so instantly to strangers in the Christmas market.
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