My Puppy and Me

The daily excursion to the dog park is now an unbreakable habit. Even if I'm not planning to go, if it's around 5 o'clock, Marti will start walking in that direction. And since it's a great way for her to wear herself out and get all of her business done, it's hard to find reasons not to go.

Alan has never been a fan of the dog park. He thinks dog park people are weird. Granted, some of them are weird. There are the ones who take their dogs to daycare; some who go to the dog park twice a day; some who don't even own dogs. But mostly, they are people, like me, who love their dogs and want to get their dogs out to exercise. The dog park culture is highly amusing, though. There are rules of etiquette; the cardinal rule being Always Pick Up After Your Dog. Also important is Ask Before You Give Other Dogs Treats. It also happens that you learn all the dogs' names before you actually learn any of the humans' names. I know Buster, Luca, Bogey, Otto, Sierra, and Champ, but I don't know any Sue, Martha or Kevin.

When Alan's at the dog park he's like a dog trapped in a cage. He's plotting his escape route. Just look at the fire, the passion, the excitement on his face.



Marti doesn't understand what Alan's problem is. The dog park is THE BEST PLACE TO BE, EVER. Except maybe bed. Marti has a blast at the dog park.



And everyone at the park knows that Marti is the most submissive pug ever. Her handshake-nice-to-meet-you consists of lay-down-roll-onto-back-and-allow-sniffing. Which is fine. I mean, it's better than some of these little bullies out there. That sounds really "parenty," but no one likes to see their baby getting pushed around.

Here's Bogey, the behemoth of the dog park.



And here's Marti's latest stalker, Buster. The first time Buster met Marti, you couldn't get him out of this position. Marti says, "I have a boyfriend in Kansas; you're not Chuck!"