Day 21: Take me out of the ball game

Who could not love this dog?

Today Gracie and I went with Bruce to the Sunday afternoon Twins game.  The weather was not quite as beautiful as the various weather predictions during the week claimed it would be...it is now but wasn't as we set out.  In fact, rain seemed possible.  Bruce checked the current forecast on his computer and reported that no rain was in the forecast despite the overcast sky.  Cloudy, cool weather, I decided, would be ideal for Gracie as long as there was no rain.

Bruce and I have season tickets but not for every game.  We have three or four games a month, usually one in each of the series that are played at home.  We sit in the same seats all the time, the same seats we sat in all of last year.  The seats are small and jammed together but with more leg room than airplanes currently have. Thinking I knew what to expect, I packed my backpack with Gracie's portable water bowl, her hearing dog vest, and her LL Bean dog blanket.  I planned to unroll the blanket under the seat for her to lie on.  Earlier in the week, I had purchased a bottle of water at Trader Joe's to bring to the game.  We no longer drink bottled water, but I was pretty sure that we would be allowed to bring an unopened bottle of water into the game.  I knew we couldn't bring a water bottle filled with tap water of the kind I carry on my bike into the game--something to do with terrorism the specifics of which I have not pursued with the earnest folks who man the gates at the game.  Anyway, feeling clever and prepared, we set out on our bikes for the game: Gracie in the bike trailer and me in my "Hearing Impaired" vest.  Bruce led the way, possibly to protect us and possibly to disassociate himself from us.  I suspect that I am the neighborhood character now, replacing the guy at the end of the block who looks like Grandpappy Amos from the old Television show called The Real McCoys and burns garbage in a blast furnace in his garage, playing opera records as the thick, greasy smoke coats the neighborhood.  At least I will be a more harmless, less polluting character, thanks in large part to lovable Gracie.

We got to the game without incident...or rain.  We parked the bikes at the end of the bike rack just as we had discussed we would do earlier on.  I put Gracie's hearing dog vest on her and left my hearing impaired vest on (to deflect questions actually).  The people at the gate were extremely nice and welcoming.  In we went.  Gracie bravely navigated the crowd which seemed suddenly larger to me both in numbers and in size.  Bruce suggested having lunch in the restaurant that our season tickets allow us to enter.  We rode the elevator up--again, with Gracie acting as if this were something she did every day--only to discover that the only option was a gigantic and expensive buffet.  We rode back down to our level.  Bruce went for sandwiches while Gracie and I worked our way to our seats.

The only other people in the entire row were the people that sit immediately to either side of us.  An older man who comes by himself and a chubby couple.  I had the backpack and the bottle of water and decided that I'd give Gracie a drink before Bruce arrived.  After all, walking through that maze of legs had to have made her thirsty, or so I reasoned.  The chubby couple eyed me warily.  I smiled confidently.  I suppose since I was wearing a vest that said "Hearing Impaired," they thought speaking to me was pointless.  "Thirsty?" I said to Gracie as I set down her little bowl.  Then I twisted off the top of the water, and water exploded everywhere!  It was carbonated water!!  I looked at the bottle, and it did say "Sparkling" on it.  But doesn't all water sparkle? Isn't sparkle a quality of water when it is clean, and the sun shines on it?  Carbonated water actually dehydrates rather than hydrates, or so a nurse once told me.  I don't buy the stuff. Anyway, I was almost as surprised as Gracie...who I suddenly realized was no longer right by me.  "Where is she?" I gasped.  The chubby woman next to me pointed at her husband and said, "Under him."

Thankfully, Gracie was attached to my belt and was therefore unable to get as far as I'm sure she wanted to get. I gathered her in.  Because the floor was now wet, I put her up on my lap where she sat very quietly, well-contained within the area alloted to my seat.  When Bruce arrived, we put the blanket on the floor and Gracie settled right down on it.  I tried to get Bruce to take a picture of Gracie at the game, but he was apparently intimidated by the chubby couple that was clearly put out and not without reason.  Maybe I will never see them again.

Along about the middle of the seventh inning, Gracie started signalling that she needed a potty break.  While everyone was standing to sing the seventh inning "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," Gracie and I excused ourselves down the aisle of legs and trash, up the crowded stairs, and out the nearest door.  This door happened to be the exit into a corral for smokers.  Smoking inside of public places is illegal in Minnesota, so many bars and the Twins stadium have outside areas for smokers who cannot wait until they get home to smoke...as we could not wait for a potty break.

I told the guards--apparently guarding the smokers--that Gracie and I didn't want to smoke.  Instead, we were looking for a grassy spot where Gracie might relieve herself.  They seemed bewildered but let us out.  We walked almost all the way around the stadium before we found a spot of grass.  If Gracie could talk, she would have said, "Ah!"  What a good dog to wait until the right spot could be found.  Afterward, Gracie did not seem at all eager to go back to our seats.  Being the good sport that she is, she did though, and, having scored five runs while Gracie and I were hunting for grass, the Twins won.