And that of her neighbourhood friends.
So Gail rushed back from her Pilates class on Tuesday evening, pulled on a second pair of thick leggings over the keep fit kit, then added a woolly sweater and a padded jacket. She popped a hat, scarf and gloves into her bag (but not her phone/camera), clipped on my lead and together we walked briskly down to Duthie Park.
Where we found a big crowd of humans, plus a few dogs, all sat on the grass staring at the screen and nodding along in unison (the humans not the dogs) to the Toreador Song.
Gail located her friends Kirsty and Cathy, each clutching with some determination their mug of hot coffee and looking slightly blue. We joined them and I sat in my best 'good boy' pose, with my back to the screen, facing into the stiff northerly wind roaring down from the Arctic. From the loud speakers came much operatic emoting in French.
By the interval, the cold had begun to penetrate Gail's precautionary outfit, and Kirsty and Cathy were fighting over who would get to pick me up and use me as a hot water bottle substitute.
When Cathy suggested we all decamp to the nearby dog-friendly bar at the Inn at the Park, I have to report that neither Gail nor Kirsty protested at the suggestion nor betrayed any distress at the thought of missing the end of the Covent Garden performance.
Two glasses of wine (the humans) and an altercation with a noisy and impertinent pug (me) later, Gail walked me unsteadily home. While I was checking the pee-mail on the tree outside our house, another neighbour, the always stylishly attired Catherine, walked past smiling broadly, clad in a Russian style fur hat, ski suit and well-insulated mitts, with a folding chair slung over her shoulder.
And thus ended an evening of outdoor high culture in Aberdeen on an early July evening.
At least it didn't rain.
As I mentioned above, Gail forgot to take her camera to Carmen, so here's a shot of me at St Cyrus National Nature Reserve enjoying a fine day out last weekend.
