Bizz and I timed our outing on Saturday perfectly. We ended up at our favorite dog park when there were loads of little dogs for him to cavort with. Of course , being Bizz, he did not cavort. He did the routine and much required butt sniffing routine with all the other dogs but spent most of his time at my feet or very nearby - guarding me from all these interlopers who dared to approach me. He did break periodically to bark like crazy at large dogs approaching the other side of the fence, returning to me with his tail high in the air and a self assured attitude that said, I told him. All in all he was hilarious.
I ended up on a bench chatting with numerous other dog owners, all comparing stories of saving their beloved pets from shelters, dying relatives and the streets. It's a rare thing to meet someone with a dog that they got from a breeder as a puppy and when they do they tell their story with an apologetic tone and a I'll get my next one from the shelter.
All the dogs have their thing - one dog will chase a ball but won't fetch it. One dog with amazing legs will fetch every ball thrown no matter who's master throws it. Some dogs rough house and some dogs simply go from person to person waiting to be patted.
What they all have in common is the absolute adoration of their human owners. Like me they all feel very lucky to have found the right dog, their dog. And of a single accord we all departed when it approached noon and the temperatures began to climb.
We walked out past the women prisoners who'd come to clean the park, the sheriff's bus prominently parked and the guards walking about. The women all smiled at Bizz (he is the cutest dog) and I could see they wanted to pat him but we could not approach each other. The lake was full of fish and ringed with fisherman - couples happily fishing together, fathers and sons, grandfathers and their grandsons - all enjoying the lovely day.
I love our Saturday mornings in the park, always very similar but no two exactly alike.