Kirby Beagle here.If you want a dog's perspective of Seafair, I'm your hound. I live in Mount Baker -- you may know my neighbor, O'Doul the Collie. I know a few things about this beast called "Seafair".
On one hand, Seafair is a dog's paradise. You wouldn't believe the food scraps that people leave behind. I've seen corn cobs, chips and more chicken bones in a weekend than I usually see in three or four months. My neighborhood seems to collect an unusual amount of chicken bones, although I hear from other sources that chicken bones are universal. Share the wealth, I say.
I find the decorations from Seafair inspiring. On Seafair weekend, you see those giant, inflatable beer bottles in front of the convenience stores. I would love to lift my leg on one of those babies, although my roommate -- that uptight human being -- won't let me. Funny, you don't see giant beer bottles to mark Christmas... a giant Noche Bueña. That says, "Feliz Navidad" to me more than a couple dozen fruitcakes!
Longtime residents in my 'hood recall seeing people urinate in the bushes, the alleys. Not cool. Dogs peeing in public... that's the way of the world. Membership in the canine class has its privilege. Deal with it.
I can't believe how loud those Blue Angels get. When I'm inside and I hear those jets roar, I feel like those birds will tear the roof off the house. What I don't get is how the Blue Angels get away with the deafening racket. I bark in my own hood and some spiteful red stater calls the pound... and somebody with a badge shows up on my doorstep. Do the police go the runaway to speak to the Blue Angels? I don't think so. How fair is that?
Later,
Kirby Beagle
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