Dottie does Pride.

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Today I awoke wanting to tussle.  The other mother obliged me, even though it was 6:45 am on a Saturday.

Arise! Greet the day. And my teeth.

Arise! Greet the day. And my teeth.

We had a mellow morning, then walked down to my house to prepare for the Dyke March.  The other mother got a coffee at Faye’s, and I was given a dog treat that I declined to eat.  I have refined tastes, and milk bone treats will not do.  The other father swept the steps and opened up the stoop.

A grand day for stoop sitting.

A grand day for stoop sitting.

The crowds steadily grew as the day went on.  I kept watch from the window.

What are all those people doing out there?

What are all those people doing out there?

I laid in the sun in front of my stoop to bask in the warmth.  Many people complimented my cuteness.

Ah, warm pavement!

Ah, warm pavement!

I was happy to be in my house with a bunch of people.  I miss my family! The Dyke March branched out in front of our house. Most people walked down Dolores,  but here are the rebels who insisted on the traditional route down 18th St.

They march where they  want. New route be damned.

They march where they want. New route be damned.

I avoided the madness of Dolores Park, but here are a few pictures of the scene around 5:30 pm. Apparently there was oiled lesbian wrestling at some point.

Happy throngs. Lots of booze, pot smoke and sunburn.

Happy throngs. Lots of booze, pot smoke and sunburn.