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Dog Park Days

By May 12, 2008June 10th, 2015No Comments

Today was a dog park day.

For those of you that do not find stories about Boss as entertaining and adorable as he is (and he is, ask Ironmin, she met him on Friday and she saw him first-paw) this is your warning to tune out now. But I will have you know that I received a request from a certain non-Waterstraat member of the family to include more stories of Boss. I am also convinced that if Boss goes missing I will first look to this particular family as they have been making eyes on my adorable dog.

Don’t think I haven’t noticed.

Boss and I high-tailed it to the dog park meaning all 8 pounds of Boss went tearing down the path while nearly yanking my arm – my good arm, my breathing side in swimming arm nearly out of the socket and down the path. As we walked up we noticed Foxy on the other side of the fence.

If you frequent the dog park, this happens. You start to know the names of other people’s dogs. The people themselves – who knows. Plus most of the people at the dog park during the day are cagey or weird. Not quite right. Myself maybe included. However, knowing the name of their dogs? Totally normal – and important. You should know your who’s who around the dog park.

Because then you can say there sits Foxy on the other side of the fence. Foxy is also a Chihuahua. However, unlike Boss, she happens to be one of the world’s ugliest Chihuahuas. I’m so sorry, Foxy, but foxy you is not. Of course I am not about to tell the owner this. That would be like telling a friend that their baby is ugly. And yes, there are ugly babies out there. Just as there are ugly dogs. Small and practically hairless with beaty albino like eyes just like Foxy has. On top of that she has a bad attitude, pure chihuahua with no time nor interest for anything else but her own agenda and herself.

Regardless, she and Boss do the ceremonial dog park entry stand off. If you have ever seen two dogs meet you know what I’m talking about. They both sit tentative, sniffing each other while looking the other way. It’s a strange interaction ritual that all dogs engage in no matter their size. I think it’s their way of saying listen, I’m going to pretend like I’m not about to tear into you with my teeth so I’m just going to sit here for a moment, well-mannered but suspicious, sniffing you to confirm that you do eat your own poo then I’m going to chase the hell out of you and take a chunk of your left paw.

Boss sniffs in this first encounter and then decides Foxy is “ok”. Foxy has a standoffish look about her but Boss tries to engage her in play anyway. So he bolts. Fakes left, heads right and looks behind to see that she follows.

She doesn’t. Little bitch. She is too busy digging a hole. Boss gives up and decides to claim ownership of one tree, a patch of weeds, the picnic table, some green fence and – just to show her who’s in charge – Foxy’s hole.

Meanwhile, Foxy’s owner is asking me about GPS. On the picnic table at the shelter he has the entire contents of a brand new GPS system for this car scattered on the table. See what I mean about the people? Who does this at the dog park? His first question – do you know how much I paid for this thing? (no) Second question – do you know how to use this thing? (no) Third question – do you know what the Illinois Tollway Authority will do when the need more money for my I-Pass? Ok, someone press the freak button. NOW.

Meanwhile another dog has entered the under-25 park. Boss is thrilled. He begins chasing the new dog around the park – a dog that really should have been weighed at the gate because he appears to be over 25 lbs. Regardless Boss is right there. The owner is trying to teach the dog to fetch a ball but Boss will have none of this. As the ball gets launched, the dog starts chasing and Boss intercepts. He tactfully runs in front of the dog as it approaches the ball, the dog gets thrown off and chases Boss instead. After all, a ball doesn’t move but Boss won’t stop.

This happens a few times. Each time I find it funnier. The other owner – didn’t find it so funny. But what am I to care. That’s what he gets for bringing his dog into the gate that is not weight appropriate. And the fact that Boss kept drinking out of this doggie bowl – better yet. I try to distract Boss away from the bowl but then another dog enters the park as distraction enough. Boss bolts to its side. I look closer. And notice that Freckles has entered the park.

I hate Freckles.

Freckles is everything dog haters hate about dogs in about 12 pounds of overweight Jack Russell Terrier. First of all, Freckles is also an ugly dog. Perhaps it was cute about 4 pounds ago. Secondly, Freckles is a spaz. There is no place for a spaz even at a dog park – they rile up the other dogs and then jump on the people. Last – and most important – I do not like the owner of Freckles. She is negative, overpossessive and always has something whiny to say about herself or her stupid little dog.

The last time I had an encounter with Freckles was a few weeks ago. He had recently undergone doggie surgery. The owner was having a fit every time a dog got near Freckles because she was afraid another dog would rip his stitches out. Hey. Genius. Don’t bring your little dog to the dog park if you don’t want it around other DOGS. Or better yet put a cone on your dog’s head because we here at the dog park would like to be entertained.

Boss didn’t hear the owner’s warning. Or maybe he did and he’s the smart one here. He kept antagonizing Freckles. That’s because Freckles kept getting in between Boss and the man with the bacon. Who also happens to be Foxy’s owner. Got it? Dog park who’s who.

So Freckles entered the park today and immediately goes into spaz mode. Starts to chase Boss who pounces on Freckles with two front paws just in case he didn’t get the memo that Boss was in charge. The owner watches this and is not pleased that Freckles is getting bumrushed by Boss’ two front paws. She tells Freckles to get away from Boss and then begins complaining. Today she whines about being tired. Foxy’s owner makes the mistake of asking her why to which she replies how should I know?

O – k. I take that as my cue to leave the dog park before I have to listen to her anymore. It was a beautiful day at the park filled with bird tweets and random GPS questions from the other man. But whining – come on, keep your pessimism at home. This is a park where we laugh and play. Get your leash, Boss. We’re done.

And right as I releash Boss, Freckles’ owner is shouting “FRECKLES!” in her whiny voice and then says “Already?” Seems that Freckles faked left, headed right and was in the corner taking a dump.

As Boss and I walked away, I thought to myself that I don’t know why but I found that to be the perfect move on Freckles’ part.