Well, last year, my parents didn’t know if I’d be here to celebrate another St. Patty’s Day. But here I am! What’s more, I’m not an Irish Wolfhound, an Irish Setter, or Irish anything. But I am lucky.
When I lived in Chicago, my parents typically went to a parade on St. Patrick’s Day – either in the loop, or the one closer to their roots: the Southside Western Avenue parade. That one was banned for a few years because it ended up being a total drunkfest, but I read it was reinstated. Back by popular demand.
I got a St. Patty’s day card from my dog cousins, Reed and Dotty! They’re not Irish, either. But it sure was nice to hear from them, so I dressed up for the occasion:
I know I can’t imbibe like I used to, but my sister Kristy will make it up for me. Here I am pretending to be her after she visits the local Irish pub:
Just call me Minnie O’Kamper. For today. I love you!