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Frames of Time...

017_04 - A Royal Dane...
My wife and I aren't the only ones who like to dress in costume. The renaissance faire folks have been doing it for decades, to say nothing of the Society for Creative Anachronism group.

This photo, taken at a local ren faire shows our Great Dane Bronx in rather royal attire surrounded by ladies of the time. Unlike some ren faires, the one in San Bernardino County allows pets. As one walks around the various booths and displays you can see an occasional pooch.

Bronx was our first Harlequin Dane, and our first to have natural ears (aka floppy). He was also our Dane who most enjoyed costumes. You can see more on his memorial page. Yes, sadly Bronx is no longer with us.

At ren faires, the Danes attracted their usual attention due to their size, and the usual jokes (i.e. "where's his saddle"). Our kids (what I call them), enjoyed the fair, even though sometimes the heat was high. Bronx would walk proudly in his costume. Once, while we sat and watched a juggler, Bronx became part of the act. Bronx would bark at various things the juggler did. The juggler, seizing on the opportunity, began playing to Bronx, as he would a heckler. The crowd, and Bronx, loved it.

Baron, nicknamed "the baby" for he never seemed to grow up, was also a crowd pleaser. His first faire he found the tug of war rope. It was around three inches thick. He happily picked up one end and started carrying it. A lady in charge of the rope game gave comical chase calling out "thief" and "bring back the rope". Baron found all this fun and pranced around in circles playing keep away as various faire folks feigned attempts to grab it. For the next few years, whenever we would show up, the rope lady would make certain our kids saw the rope. Baron happily obliged the fun until one year they changed the rope to standard rope. Now it was this thin little "string" that Baron couldn't fathom at all.

The last time we attended the faire was with our (then) pregnant girl, Star. We had the fortuneteller "read" her belly and tell us the puppy count. The fortuneteller was not the seer she claimed to be. She totally mis-read the litter that came.

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