Saturday night, I helped emcee the Capital Area Humane Society's Fur Ball.  Part of the evening is dedicated to a "Pooch Parade" where all the dogs there that night come strolling through the dining area.  There was also a Doggie Spa for all these dogs to play and get pampered during a silent auction, dinner, and live auction.  Earlier in the day, Julie suggested I take Leah as my date.  Like most 7-year-olds dying to get a dog of her own, this would seem to be heaven.  I explained that it might be pretty boring for her during the middle program portion of the night.  Didn't matter.  I had her at "dog." 

So, off we went to this Black-Tie Affair, me in my suit and Leah in her prettiest of colorful summer dresses and flip-flops.  Nice flip-flops.  Now, I thought she was well-behaved, but what I saw Saturday night from my daughter almost brought me to tears.  She was polite as she shook everyone's hand and looked them in the eye, sat and ate dinner with two of my bosses and their wives.  She made fast friends with the boss's college-age daughter and of course enjoyed the dogs to no end.  She tossed around 'pleases' and 'thank yous' and 'pleased to meet yous' like an old cocktail party pro.  And even chuckled at Chris Holman's joke that I should start looking for dates my own age.  When the evening was over, I strutted out of the room with my baby on my arm as she said, "I had fun tonight, Daddy."  I'm still beaming.

Oh, bye the way, we're getting a pug.  Maybe.