Azure Sanita Professional Clogs / LUSH Foot Products
R.I.P. Fizz, 1995—2009
Yes, I hate being a stereotype-come-to-life, but I have been medically prohibited from wearing anything other than very healthy shoes. At least I do not own many cats. Nor do I own any reptiles, or other exotic pets. Actually, I am on bereavement leave regarding the loss of my dog, an extraordinary shelter Greyhound-Doberman mutt, Fizz.
The dog left the planet on Monday, March 23, at 5:15 p.m. People have been very kind: at the clinic, one man looked at the empty lead, and looked at my tear-streaked face, and looked at the empty lead, and looked at my tear-streaked face, and looked away, not saying a word. It was a nice surprise to find some Sanita clogs to cheer me up. If Fizz was here, I'd try them on and say, “Walkies!” and he'd at least wag his tail slightly, no longer capable of locomotion, and try to stand, however feebly. I did the right thing.
Sanita clogs are made in Denmark, and apparently were first hewn by Christen Andersen, who distributed them by bicycle. How wholesome. They have been handcrafted in Europe since 1907. It makes me glad that these particular shoes are bright blue, and that I can wear them to fun events in Chicago such as female Elvis impersonator performances. Apparently "Old Shep" was Elvis's favorite song. There is a 24-Hour Church of Elvis in Portland, Oregon, where I had a childhood dog named Shep. Sanita does not have 100-Dalmatians hide shoes, but "wild" zebra-patterned clogs are available.
Not only can I attempt to attain "Happy Feet" with fun, sturdy, fashionable shoes, I can also doctor my feet with some delectably "spicy," almost dessert-like products: LUSH makes Fair Trade mint foot lotion and a spearmint-seasoned body butter. Slathering Running To The Embassy on after the pink foot mask, my toes became fragrant, and my calluses, no longer an embarrassment reminiscent of the Kalahari—or perhaps a Mississippi field during a drought. Between the solid, well-engineered, forward-propelling shoes and comforting ungents, I could spend all day traipsing around Graceland. Self-care is for all: comfortable feet are universally appreciated—no one wants their dogs to bark.
And Fizz was not "nothing but a hound dog."