Trip Start Oct 27, 2004
120Trip End Ongoing
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After all the walking and countless pats on her spotted little head, Zoobley was tired so we went back to the Rathbone for a nap. I said earlier that the Rathbone was an old row house converted to a hotel, but I guess it's really more of a bed and breakfast. The owners live in one side of the house and serve breakfast every morning in their kitchen and living room. Our room is more like that in a friends hose than a typical hotel room. The floors sag a little and the door needs a little shove to open and close. Best of all, we have a real key to unlock the door instead of a credit card. Somehow, when I stay at a modern motel, I always subconsciously feel like I'm spending money when I unlock the door.
The power went out at the Rathbone about six o'clock, so Zoobs and I headed back to Bourbon Street in search of a restaurant that serves small spotted dogs. Thanks to an eager Maitre' D, we found a nice place with a patio where I enjoyed a good Chicken Florentine and merlot followed by a great tiramisu and cappuccino. Zoobley enjoyed a glass of water and a lot of petting from a head waiter. It still amazes me that well behaved dogs are shunned from American restaurants but poorly behaved children are welcomed with open arms. This is an area where I understand the French are much more highly evolved
After dinner, Zoobley and I strolled up and down Bourbon Street the music flowing into the street from the bars and clubs; everything from heavy metal to blues to jazz. Occasionally, when I would sit on the curb to listen, Zoobs would patiently lay down with her little spotted head politely placed on her paws while hundreds of passersby would stop and pat her on the head or scratch her butt. It seems that just about everybody likes a spotted dog from tourists and bikers to Maitre' Ds and hookers.