We arrived at Caliente to find the patio hopping: a large group next to us, with a kid, and three women nearby. With a male bulldog. Off the leash.
We headed for the empty corner table. The bulldog immediately trotted over to visit. Jackson was on-leash, which can make a guy defensive, so we were nervous. But, charmingly, the bulldog started licking Jackson's balls* like they were pepperoni. Jackson was okay with that. Of course everyone on the patio was in hysterics at that point. Except for Stacy: mortified, face hidden in hands.
After a couple of minutes of this extreme socialization, the bulldog's owner called him back, and, at Stacy's request, leashed him. Things settled down. Jackson had his favorite squeak toy, a pelican in a tutu (photo above). We were able to get him down on his mat for chunks of time, and we got through the meal. I got hammered on fine beers.
When the bulldog group was leaving, the owner apologized. I told her my dog wanted her dog's number. She said that the vet had told her that her dog was "totally gay." (I haven't kept up with canine sexual orientation testing; apparently it's quite advanced.) I said that Jackson was straight, but willing to experiment.
All in all, a successful brunch.
* What's left of them, anyway.