The plan was to bike to the Walker Art Center and visit the exhibits. Biking is the best way to go most places because the issue of parking and getting from the car to the place and back to the car are eliminated. Most places in Minneapolis have bike racks or at least signs on posts to which a bike can be locked.
My friend Jan came over at one and, remembering Gracie and my need to practice the door knock/bell sound, rang the bell. For the second time--my older son had stopped by earlier and also knocked and rang instead of just coming in to help Gracie and me practice--Gracie ran to the door and then came back to get me when I clapped for her. I then followed Gracie to the door and let Jan in. Gracie did such a good job that I almost forgot to tell her how wonderful she is. Gracie loves to do what's she's been taught to do; her tail wagged so hard and fast, I thought it might fall off! I asked Jan if she would be embarrassed biking with me if I wore my "Hearing Impaired" vest. "Are you kidding?" she said, reminding me that one of the many things I like about Jan is that nothing much embarasses her.
We were almost on our way when I remembered bags for picking up after Gracie in case they were needed. (No dog owner should leave the house without pick-up bags!) Back in we went to get them and then we were off. The dedicated bike trail and its many arteries is only a few blocks from our house. The route to the art gallery is actually the same one we take to the baseball park, which is just a little further on toward the Mississippi River. We arrived without incident.
I considered locking up on the edge of the Sculpture Garden (home of the famous Spoon Bridge), but Jan thought our bikes and Gracie's bike trailer would be safer if we locked them to the racks closer to the art gallery's entrance. We did. Gracie took an opportunity to "hurry up" on the lawn next to the gallery; then in we went. After checking in, we were given a gallery button (see Figure 1 ). Normally, the Walker is very fussy about what goes into the galleries, and I couldn't help but wonder if someone would question Gracie's presence. I have been sent to the lockers--small lockers where forbidden items can be left--because of a backpack purse and an umbrella, for example. Today we were approached by a gallery guard. But the forbidden item was not Gracie but Jan's empty water bottle. "We have lockers," the guard pointed out in a very friendly tone. Jan replied that she had already left some things in a locker. "Your pocket then?" the guard said. "Under your shirt, maybe?" she added. Jan relented and rolled the water bottle up in her shirt. As a reward, the guard began describing the items on display in the room, including a huge tampestry that looked like a huge black and white photograph and related in some way to the history of the Walker Art Gallery. I couldn't follow what the guard was saying (though Jan seemed very interested), so Gracie and slipped away. Even though I was wearing a button that said "Trouble-maker," neither Gracie nor I intended to cause any trouble. I don't think Gracie is a fan of art--or maybe it was the marble floors she didn't much like. However, she was the model of patience through three different exhibits, staying with me and waiting while I read the signing. Though I didn't witness this, Jan claimed that Gracie licked her leg while we were watching an huge video of a McDonald's restaurant flooding.
Finally, I guess Gracie had had enough. She batted me with her paw, which is also her signal for needing to go out. We left Jan in the gallery where she was having another conversation we weren't following with a different guard. Once outside, Gracie rolled in the grass and encouraged me to pet her. I decided she'd had enough art for one day. I'd had enough as well. We found Jan, one step ahead of us with her gear out of her locker and her bike helmet already on. Home we went.
My friend Jan came over at one and, remembering Gracie and my need to practice the door knock/bell sound, rang the bell. For the second time--my older son had stopped by earlier and also knocked and rang instead of just coming in to help Gracie and me practice--Gracie ran to the door and then came back to get me when I clapped for her. I then followed Gracie to the door and let Jan in. Gracie did such a good job that I almost forgot to tell her how wonderful she is. Gracie loves to do what's she's been taught to do; her tail wagged so hard and fast, I thought it might fall off! I asked Jan if she would be embarrassed biking with me if I wore my "Hearing Impaired" vest. "Are you kidding?" she said, reminding me that one of the many things I like about Jan is that nothing much embarasses her.
We were almost on our way when I remembered bags for picking up after Gracie in case they were needed. (No dog owner should leave the house without pick-up bags!) Back in we went to get them and then we were off. The dedicated bike trail and its many arteries is only a few blocks from our house. The route to the art gallery is actually the same one we take to the baseball park, which is just a little further on toward the Mississippi River. We arrived without incident.
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| Fig. 1: Walker Gallery Button, Summer 2011 |
Finally, I guess Gracie had had enough. She batted me with her paw, which is also her signal for needing to go out. We left Jan in the gallery where she was having another conversation we weren't following with a different guard. Once outside, Gracie rolled in the grass and encouraged me to pet her. I decided she'd had enough art for one day. I'd had enough as well. We found Jan, one step ahead of us with her gear out of her locker and her bike helmet already on. Home we went.
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