Peaches and pooches don't mix at market

Hey, everybody, it's September now, and the peaches are officially on!

Like "Donkey Kong"!

This means I'll be busy haunting the valley's various farmers markets so I can eat peaches, peaches and more (!) peaches until the last sole survivor peach drops from the last sole survivor branch of the last sole survivor peach tree.

Oh, peaches, I love you so much.

And I also love going to farmers markets, too.

Mostly.

Except for the dog part.

OK, here's where I barge into the middle of my own column to reassure everyone that I LOVE dogs possibly even more than I love peaches.

Except for the five (long) years my husband and I lived in student housing, I have never NOT shared my home with a dog.

Even multiples of dogs.

Right now, in fact, I would like to add another dog member to our family.

A black pug, I think.

Named Misery.

And if you support me in this, please write my husband and tell him so.

Because he needs convincing.

Anyway.

The point is I "heart" dogs.

A lot.

Only I really do not get why people take them to farmers markets, which I have said in this column before.

Here's the deal.

I'm pretty sure dogs HATE being there. In fact, when I gaze into their dark brown eyes (unless the dog is a husky, in which case I gaze into their blue eyes), I fancy I can understand what they're saying to me.

Yes, say the dogs with their brown eyes and also blue eyes (and occasionally one brown eye and one blue eye), we know.

We feel EXACTLY like you did when you were in grade school and your mother dragged you to the fabric store.

UGH!

The fabric store!