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Mike and I celebrated our wedding anniversary last weekend. Twelve years of (usually) wedded bliss!

We wed on the beach in Kona in 2007.
Mike and I had an intimate beach wedding in Kona in 2007

We got married in Hawaii — Kona, specifically — in order to avoid all the usual wedding-day malarkey. I really don’t like the idea of making a huge fuss about something that’s going to be parsed, processed and imprinted onto my mind as a vague blur.

And figuring out where to seat everybody? PLEASE.

I remember reading that weddings were more stressful than divorces or funerals, and I’m just not going out like that.

Here we are cutting the cake. No stuffy white dress here!

Also, I didn’t want to spend a bunch of dough on a stuffy white dress that I’m just going to ditch after the first date and will eventually turn yellow and brown in my closet. No, that’s just not for me. 

I decided I would have a very practical wedding and exchange my vows in a white bikini. Mike was onboard. He’s so agreeable!

I did that for my prom, too (just kidding).

The best part about celebrating anything is receiving flowers!

We told our family and some friends what we were doing, and if they wanted to join us, cool.

We ended up with about 20 people, and a good time was had by all. I actually got to cavort with my peeps, eat, drink and snorkel for days instead of hastily thanking them as I moved onto the next guest in my quivery white shoes.

So now, here we are, 12 years later. We got a sitter for Sasha and everything.

Unfortunately, Azzy’s fabulous sitter was going to be out of town that weekend, God bless her. I really didn’t want to deal with finding another sitter (good help is so hard to find these days), so now Mike and I had our opportunity to put the Benadryl we had bought to the test.

We knew the day would come when we would have to go somewhere without Azzy — not that we had to go out somewhere without him, but I kind of wanted to spend an evening with just human adults for a change. (Remember, we’re in Hollywood, so I say that loosely, but you know what I mean.)

Our vet said it was OK to try Benadryl, so I guess our anniversary was as good a time as any.

There was an unassuming French bistro pretty close to us that was getting rave reviews. I figured it was a safe bet to go there because we would be close to home to go check on the status of our front door if we got cold feet.

For the Benadryl, I’ve read that it should only contain diphenhydramine, as some other ingredients could be harmful for dogs. I’ve only thought about using Benadryl for Azzy’s SA, but it can be used for other things like:

•           Itchy skin
•           Irritated skin
•           Nausea
•           Car sickness
•           Insomnia
•           Insect or flea bites
•           Bee stings
•           Reaction to vaccines
•           Hay fever, sneezing, or coughing
•           Stuffy or runny nose
•           Asthma
•           Allergies

Also, stick to the pill form rather than getting the liquid version. Apparently, the liquid form has high levels of alcohol, and we need to keep Azzy sober in case we had to call him for a ride (we were out on foot).

The pills come in 25mg each. You’re supposed to give them 1mg per pound, so it’s three pills for a dog like Azzy.

Thank God for Kongs.

Azzy inhaled his pills with a can of wet food. Not to be outdone, we also put some peanut butter in his Kong.

We waited about 45 minutes, I did one last check of my mascara, and we planned our escape.

Our surly cat, Sabo, had our back. As we looked over at Azzy, he was facing the opposite window and lovingly embracing his Kong, and Sabo was seated squarely in front of him like he was trying to obstruct Azzy’s view of us. I really regret not taking a picture of this scene before me, but Mike and I were so ecstatic that Azzy wasn’t even paying the slightest bit of attention to us that we nearly tripped over ourselves trying to get out of there!

So, we get to this bistro.
Funny thing about bistros:

The word “bistro” is Russian for “quickIy.” When Russian soldiers were stationed in France after the Napoleonic Wars, they would go to get some food and tell the person to hurry up.

Some French people will dispute this, and they’re allowed to do that. I can’t verify the absolute authenticity of this hypothesis, but it makes for an interesting story, which is really why we’re all here, right?

And bistro (быстро) really does mean “quickly” in Russian. Can you tell me what it means in French? I didn’t think so.

This is one of the best almond gazpachos I’ve ever tried — OK, so it’s the only one I’ve ever tried, but it was pretty memorable.

So we are at this bistro, and I found myself nervous. I probably would have benefited from a bit of Benadryl myself, or even a toke, but no point in dwelling on it now. I buried my head in my almond gazpacho and hoped for the best.

The food was fantastic. I won’t be reviewing the place, however, since we were there without Azzy. I’m just letting you know in case you were wondering. I’ll throw in a picture of my soup. I also had the steak, and Mike had an excellent risotto.

Homecoming!

So I think we were both nervous because our to-go boxes were sizable, especially considering it was fabulous (and also French), and since we were so close to home, we could drop our food off AND check on Azzy.

Mike recently read an article about how dogs use scent to tell time — meaning, they can tell how long you’ve been gone based on the strength of your scent. Basically, when you return and leave again, it deletes how long you were away the first time. It’s kind of like a reboot, if that makes sense.

So we open the front door, and Azzy is standing right there. So much excitement, it’s like we were gone for a week!

The good news is, Azzy didn’t destroy anything, but he was still a little bit too crazy. I wanted him to be C-A-L-M and not worried about whether or not we would be coming home. Meanwhile, our cat’s just lounging on the couch like whatevs.

This is how Azzy looked after we got home — content that mostly everyone is here.

Mike went into the kitchen, put more peanut butter into the Kong, and added a couple drops of CBD oil for good measure (also OK’d by our vet).

And then we were off again. This time, I was more relaxed and felt pretty confident that we would come home to an intact door.

We went to a couple of neighborhood bars and had some fancy drinks (well, I did — Mike sticks to beer). Unfortunately, we ended up having to skip a couple of rooftop bars that were on my list. Yes, I made a list that maximized our target area without us having to backtrack or zigzag around unnecessarily.

I got a kick out of this at one of our final destinations.

By the end of my last cocktail, I was ready to come home to our mutt, content that we had triumphed, and looking forward to occasional future private outings with Mike that will never reach the annals of this blog.

And what a homecoming it was!

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