If a cat can look at a king, a dog can look at Henry IV -- and yesterday, this little dog did.
Bao ended up with his own seat next to me, from which he watched the entire production of Henry IV Part One.
No, I didn't buy him a ticket. But my original seat turned out to be in the very first row, as close to the stage as you could get without being part of the play. It was one of those thrust stages, so if you're sitting in the first row, you're close to reach out and touch the actors. (Or stick out your foot and trip them as they run past. I saw a little kid do this, once)
One of the ushers thought it might be a bit too close for comfort where Bao was concerned (He was very tactful about it. He asked me if Bao was accustomed to sword fights) and offered to change my seat to one a few rows up, and throw in a seat for Bao in the bargain. I accepted with alacrity, and I'm glad I did.
The new seats were excellent (there wasn't a bad seat in the entire theatre) and to my genuine surprise, Bao seemed to thoroughly enjoy the show. I thought he'd just curl up and go to sleep, but he didn't. He sat there, wide awake, watching everything, for three whole hours. He seemed particularly interested in Falstaff. I was quite amazed. I never knew Bao liked Shakespeare.
During intermission, quite a few people came up to say what a good, quiet little dog he was. I am always surprised at how effortlessly most people accept the presence of a dog in places where one doesn't usually encounter dogs. It's nice for me, too. When I'm with Bao, people invariably chat with us, and I feel like I'm part of the occasion, rather than just one more lone woman out on her own.
What do you suppose is going through his mind? a man asked, as we were leaving.
Maybe, said the man's companion, he's thinking about what he'll write in his column.