"May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields
and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand."
-Traditional Gaelic blessing
Yesterday, Gracie and I marched in the Seattle Saint Patrick's Day parade.
We joined a squad of fifteen Irish lads and lassies, along with their assorted humans.
^ We worked a long time to get into perfect position for this group photo. And in the end, the photographer said that he had caught every single dog gazing at the camera. But the photo proves that at the last instant, Gracie swiveled her head around to look for me.
This is why I love her.
^ Gracie was in love with this event. Especially she adored the front-end waiting time, which allowed he ra long lovely time to meet and greet her canine people. And what a joyful sight for me to see her moving through that rolling sea of red wiggly pups, each one as happy and friendly and full of blarney as the next.
The Irish are a cheerful lot.
^ And this was my first celebration of Saint Patrick's Day knowing for sure that Irish blood runs through my veins.
I am not necessarily a parade person. I much prefer a march, in which the issue of the day is the primary player in the spotlight, and I walk in a sea of many who come together to give voice to that cause.
For me, a parade comes perilously close to a performance, and that is surely not my jam.
But this year, I decided to try.
I am definitely not one to dress up in costumes. But in light of my willingness to give this parade scene a go, as well as celebrating my newfound Irish heritage, I challenged myself to put on a headband with a pair of wiggly leprechaun hats.
I stopped short of the "Kiss me, I'm Irish!" t-shirt. Maybe next year.
^ Gracie and I were a picture of minimalist contrast to my friend, Kelly, and her girl, Nala. How do I even begin to describe the extravagant glory of Kelly's head-to-toe emerald green ensemble, or Nala's fluffy and bedazzled tutu? They were adorable and festive beyond words, and continually caught the eye and the admiration of the crowd.
But introverts too have a role to play in a parade. As Gracie and I patrolled along the edge of 4th Avenue, close to the onlookers, I kept my eye out for anyone showing signs of wanting to pet my Irish lady. We stopped dozens of times, Gracie and I, to let little hands and big hands alike smooth her fur, rub her ears, admire her gentle spirit. Quite a few children told me about dogs who were special to them; three told me about dogs they loved who had died.
Among the chaos and celebration, we shared intimate moments with perfect strangers.
And it was beautiful.
We finished the parade and stopped for a well-deserved water break.
Blessed by our morning's adventure, Gracie and I made a silent pact to march again in next year's Saint Patrick's Day parade.
Photo credit to Kelly Woodworth for photos niumber 1, 3 and 4. Thanks, Kelly!
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