You can't go shopping with Stella

So, on Tuesday - our weeknight off from language class - we decided it would be nice to go to the park and have a little picnic. The stars were really aligned since the weather was nice AND we had a little free time. David had an appointment for a haarschnitt (hair cut), so I left him at the friseur while I walked down to the grocery store to grab some treats for our outing. I had Stella in tow, who always gets nervous when we take her to the shopping street by our house. In fact, a couple of weeks ago she chewed her leash in half and ran all the way home (through city traffic), stopping to take a giant dump in the middle of the street, the sight of which actually clued me in that she was headed home.

I figured that I had her little chewing problem under control when David and I made a leash from a length of chain and typical leash hardware - a handle, a clip for her collar, you know. I even knitted the handle so I wouldn't have to hold onto a piece of chain. It was great. Or so I thought. When we got to the store, I chained her to a sturdy pole and walked into the store relatively satisfied that there wasn't much she could get into.

As I was just ticking off the last item on the list, I noticed a woman frantically walking around the store and asking people a question and pointing outside. I thought I heard her say "hund" and she confirmed it when she asked me the same question - "blah, blah, hund, blah blah?" I sort of shook my head to indicate I wasn't sure what she wanted and mumbled in my best German that I didn't speak the language. She looked at me with some annoyance and moved on. Unfortunately our German lessons are limited to plain and slow speakers who often repeat themselves. I certainly wasn't advanced enough to listen to frantic German. I figured I better finish my business and get outside in case Stella completely lost her mind and bit a passer-by or who knows what.

By the time I hustled outside, a crowd of eight or ten onlookers had gathered around Stella. Most people were standing around looking concerned with furled brows and much lip biting. One guy was putting down a bowl of water while a woman was unfastening Stella's leash from the pole. Stella looked utterly terrified. In my very most panicked German I said, "Excuse me, that dog is mine," as I relieved the woman of Stella's leash. The crowd took on a definitively mob-like tone, with the water bowl guy and the unleasher dressing me down for my apparent indiscretions and extreme neglect. I quickly turned around to leave and the woman who was questioning everyone in the store yelled at me for good measure. I told her again that I didn't speak German. She didn't care. Dear god, I thought, a small natural or man-made disaster would sure be handy right now.

To make matters worse, David and I agreed to meet in front of the grocery store after his haircut. I didn't dare stay there with all of the angry dog people, so I headed down the block hoping to bump into him. As I hustled away, I noticed that Stella had eaten the knitted handle. I wasn't sure if this was the cause of or a reaction to the crowd that gathered. In either event she was outside a total of ten minutes. Ten. I've seen people go in to do their weekly shopping and leave their dog outside the store for 30 minutes or more. I've also seen guys belly up to the bar with their faithful pooches longingly staring in the pub door. I'm not really sure what gives. Maybe it's that shelter dog look Stella has about her - sort of thin, scared and nearly feral. She always manages to look freshly abandoned. Whatever it was, I am very hesitant to show my face there, after that ruckus. It could have only been worse if the police had come. Jeez.

Otherwise, our little picnic in the park was nice. The park was really pretty - lot's of weeping willows and a big pond in the middle. There were also quite a few mosquitoes, but I don't think I'm allergic to German mosquitoes. Again, I don't know what gives. I do know that those little bastards can keep you up all night, though. This I discovered last night, when our friend Florian, on his way back to the U.S., stayed over for a visit. We went out after dinner for a beer at the little pub-in-the-park by our house and since it was so nice out, we decided to leave the big French doors at the front of our apartment open. When we returned about an hour later, I noticed a couple of mosquitoes in the bathroom, where I promptly smashed them. After cleaning up the smeary bug guts, I got ready for bed and went to lay down. About 20 minutes later I heard this high pitched buzz. I knew right away what it was. I figured the pesky little blood sucker would have a bite and then take a rest. Either he was exceedingly hungry or there were a whole flock of them. The buzzing went on all night. Finally around 3 a.m., I wizened up and stuffed my ears with toilet paper. This helped some, enough to sleep, but I could still hear that whining buzz from time to time. Ugh.

Even after mortifying embarrassment, I still love Hamburg. We are planning a day trip to Lubeck this weekend. I'll keep you posted.