Walking the Happy Land

Mom took me to Disneyland, I mean to IKEA.

Man, that place was busy. Got on the stairs, sat, and looked down at the people behind us while the stairs were moving: that was my favorite ride. I wished it would take longer. Then the excursion began. I had to strongly guard paws and tail from hypnotized crowds zombie walking. When I looked at mom, her face had the same look: eyes wide open, silly excitement, not-too-much-carrying-about-her-dog state. But I didn’t mind. I thought it was good for people to be children again and enjoy Disney, I mean IKEA.

Walking and watching from about two feet above the sea level, I saw legs, bluejeans, tanned skin, tattoos… It was a whole world just there in front of me. Got to befriend a baby in a stroller and lick his bald head, then I borrowed a llolypop from a little girl who didn’t want it anymore.

The trail was long. Then another beautiful thing happened- Mom put me in her cart and pushed me around. I felt like a cinema star. If only Kodiak could see me on the top of the kitchen towels and a pair of folded plastic chairs. Finally, we stopped at the Swedish bar: 0.50c for a hotdog, who could beat that? I stayed in awe.

I know there are places in the world that can mesmerize you. And the Swedish bar with their hotdogs and pizza is one of them.

Don’t go there.

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