After the long weekend, the Haystack received several reports of well-to-do looking dogs on Spring Street. The dogs, notable because they all wore at least one item of clothing, and because several of them walked on their hind legs, made an appearance in town to do some leaf-peeping, and to look at paintings of other dogs in the Clark and growl at them introspectively. The dogs all arrived in a BMW, dropped off by a car service.
We spoke to one of the dogs, Greg, about what brought him to town. This dog, accompanied by nobody, was wearing a handsome vest, and certainly would have been wearing a monocle if he had any eyebrows to hold it on. When interviewed, Greg told us that he was only in the Berkshires for the long weekend because he “had to get out of the city for a little bit to clear his dog head.” Greg asked us if he had access to the library because he “wanted to read Anna Korinina.” We told him he didn’t because he didn’t have a student ID, and he bit us and then went back to smoking his cigar.
Another dog, Harold, approached us to ask how he might get to the Breakroom.
We spoke to Harold’s owner, Andrew Grarbs, who was wearing a shirt that read “My Dog is my Therapist” under a $200 dollar aviator jacket. “I’m totally in support of rescuing dogs,” said Grarbs, tying Harold’s shoelace, even though we had only asked why he was taking his dog to a sit down restaurant. “All dogs are special, even the ugly ones. We just didn’t get one because we didn’t want an ugly one. But others should definitely do it. We’re just personally not a fan of mangy dogs, but to each their own, to each their own.” Harold and Grarbs then went to the Breakroom, where they both sat at the table in chairs. They tipped 6%.
We also spoke to Grace Glibs, a human and a millenial, who was wearing a shirt that said “My Dog is my Mom, and Her Name is Sarah,” who told us that she brought Sarah out to Williamstown so that she could “sniff different leaves than the city leaves.” Glibs also wanted to escape the stresses of city life, citing her work and the stresses of being a new mom. When asked where her baby was, Glibs said “I don’t know, at home or whatever,” buckling Sarah into one of those toy Jeeps that children can drive around. “We’re taking time for ourselves.”
Glibs and Sarah the dog then left to share an apple cider out of the same cup.