During the summer of 2013, Choppy and I found ourselves in Boston, keeping my very pregnant (at the time) law school roommate company (/providing a ride to the hospital should baby arrive while I was there. Thankfully, baby waited for his dad to return before making his grand entrance into the world).

While we were there, we got to do something I never knew was possible: I took Choppy on the T, Boston’s version of a subway.

Choppy seemed pretty chill about the whole thing. She didn’t bat an eye at anything: not the many people, not the train coming into the station, not riding the train itself. Nope, she just acted like she rode the subway every day.

Choppy on public transportation - indifferent to everything. Perhaps she belongs in the city.
Choppy on public transportation – indifferent to everything. Perhaps she belongs in the city.

In related news, every time I have to use public transportation, I am pretty sure I am about to be mugged, pushed on to the tracks or otherwise suffer some horrible fate. I am not chill. It turns out, this woman prefers her car, thank you very much.

Choppy: a natural city dog. Though perhaps a true city dog wouldn't lie down in the subway. That's kind of gross. And by "kind of," I mean "very."
Choppy: a natural city dog. Though perhaps a true city dog wouldn’t lie down in the subway. That’s kind of gross. And by “kind of,” I mean “very.”

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