You've Got to Come Back With Me

So Doo Dah Day is tomorrow.  It's a great event in Birmingham, sort of a giant love-in for dog lovers put on every year by the Humane Society.  People from all over bring their dogs to the park for parades, music fun, and games.  The Humane Society also helps dogs find forever homes, which is always a good thing.  It's a great event, one that would be even better if I actually had a dog.  I'm almost afraid to go down there this year, I might be tempted to pick one up.  I'd love to get a dog, actually, but my lease doesn't allow them.  Then again, my landlord is pretty great and I bet if I called him up and asked, he'd let me have one in the house (almost makes me afraid to call him, then I'd have no choice but to go down there).  However, there are a couple of ladies living in my house already that might have some thoughts on the matter.  Not sure if Sammy Jo and Captain Kitty would take too kindly to someone else moving in on their turf.  I'll get in touch with their people and see what they have to say.  It's hard to get a face-to-face with cats if they don't want to see you.  Sure, feeding time, lap time, sleep time, they're all up in your business.  But need to ask a serious question, they are harder to reach than Old Yeller (what, too soon?).  Anyway, one of these days I have a feeling another four-legged friend will make an appearance around these parts.  We'll see what happens.  But oddly enough, when I think about Doo Dah Day, my first thought isn't dogs.  Instead I think about driving to the beach in the middle of the night, putting on a suit, and watching the sunrise over the ocean, hoping the rapture doesn't occur.  It sounds strange, but that's exactly what I did around this time last year when Joe Walker asked me to be in his Sidewalk Scramble film and had the crazy notion of driving all the way to the Gulf Coast to get a shot on the beach at sunrise.  It's also the date when crazy Harold Camping told everyone the rapture was going to happen.  Since we only had one shot at this shot (and only 48 hours total to complete the whole film), we were relieved when Camping proved to be a wackjob.  God never showed so we were able to finish the film on time.  And after we drove all the way back to Birmingham, bleary-eyed and exhausted from staying awake all night, we arrived smack dab in the middle of Doo Dah Day.  There were dogs everywhere, dressed in all manner of doggie costumes, which took forever to navigate around in order to get back to our cars to finally go home and get some sleep.  It was like we had escaped the real rapture and found ourselves in the middle of some bizarre doggie version where all dogs go to heaven and get to wear funny hats on the way.  So this year, I think I will forgo the beach trip and look into finding a dog that might need a place to stay until the real rapture occurs.  Who knows, maybe if I get one, I can take them to the beach next year.