Park

Dog Days of Summer

‘Tis the season. Sunshine and warm temperatures can only mean one thing – off to the Dog park we go.  Wild, free and without any coordination whatsoever, 37 pounds of pure energy is released.

If you have ever had the pleasure of watching Mr. O play at his local dog parks, then you are familiar with the above sentence and the mental image will not soon leave you.  If you have not witnessed this sight, allow me to indulge you.

Oliver prefers to romp in the “largDSCF1621_0292_edited-1e” breed area. He doesn’t understand that many of them weigh at least twice what he does, nor does he desire this understanding.

Oliver prefers to be chased, but will not turn down an opportunity to do the chasing.  He is often left behind in this scenario.  Example:  Mr. O is the dog being chased, however,  due to physical challenges (see: short. furry. legs) he ends up being the chaser.  For this reason exactly, he has developed and employs a coping mechanism. He cuts corners.  Most dogs run in circles, mine runs in octagon like patterns.

Oliver prefers a proper introduction to all dog park incumbents.  He is the welcoming committee; never losing site of the entry gate and all who pass through.  Upon arrival,  sniffing procedures are completed and water bucket use policy is discussed.

Oliver prefers mud.  He will not hesitate to lie down smack dab in the middle of a swamp like mass, he might even start rolling around or digging in it.

Oliver prefers water. I’m just going to go ahead and say it; my dog has a drinking problem.  From a fountain, cup, gallon bucket or gutter puddle – it really doesn’t matter.

Oliver prefers the adopt-a-owner program.  At no time during his dog park session will he make it known that I am his mommy.  My incessant whistling, clapping and across-park hollers are met with his increased speed in the opposite direction.  Mr. O goes as far as to lay on the feet of other dog owners, soliciting their affectionate words and touch.

I  will not lie, it took time but ultimately I have accepted these preferences.  I realize that I am merely the transportation vessel to and from this hallowed playground and I am OK with that.  Whats not to embrace? Oliver is entertained for at least 60 minutes and I don’t have to do a thing.  He will be completely exhausted for the rest of the day and I don’t have to lift a finger to make that happen. I now look forward to the weekends where I can bring InStyle, an iced americano and cozy up in a corner lawn chair.  Winter will be here too soon, long live the dog days of summer!

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