Where are we going? What is that? Where are we?
“Yay! Look at all the people! I can make new friends!
Let’s go! Let’s go in there! Come on, what are you guys waiting on? Hurry up!
Wee! I’m free! What’s that over there? What’s this? Hey, where’d you guys go?
Oh, hello. Oh, ok… sure you can… um, ok… I’m gonna go over here now.
Oh God they are coming right at me! I’ll just stand real still and they won’t see me.
Mom! Save me! Ahhhh!
Ahhhhhh! This is not fun anymore… I want to go back to the car!
Can we go back to the car now? Can we? Can we?
Oh fun, a lake! I’m going to play in the water.
I hate this. I hate this… why did we come here?
Go away! Leave me alone. Why won’t they leave me alone???
They always pick on the little guy. This blows.
Is it time to go yet? Mom, can we go yet? Oooo, a squirrel!
Get me out of here, I’m tired, I’m wet… I want a nap.
Are we going yet? We are? Race you to the car!
Weee!!! I made it. Let’s go home.
A trip to the dog park, as recounted by Joey- mini dachshund.
The Not So Fantastic Reality:
The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:
ONE: It must suck to only be about 8 inches off the ground. My mini dachshund, Joey, is such a trooper, that sometimes I forget that he is so little. He forgets too. Like every time we head to the dog park, he is super excited and can’t wait to get in there and run around like a crazy rabbit. And then he remembers- big dogs are in here too. And for some reason the bigger the dog is, the more they are fascinated with Joey, instantly surrounding him the minute he gets in the park. Joey, not exactly a ‘social’ dog (he gets that from his mama) stands stock still and you can almost read his mind, “Just make them go away, just make this end”. As soon as he gets a chance he takes off and either hovers around me or Andy or walks parallel to Zorro, in hopes that his ‘big brother’, the wolf dog will protect him. Sadly, within minutes of arriving, Joey begins to make several attempts to get back to the car (runs to the fence and stares at the car, runs to the gate and tries to paw it open, etc.). It’s not all torture though. He loves the trails through the woods that are removed from most of the dogs and he really loves playing in the lake that borders the park, and when he’s not being accosted by a pushing retriever, he will fetch a tennis ball for a few minutes before making another plea to go home. Poor guy. And then, to add insult to injury as soon as we get home I torture him some more- with bath time.
Love & Squirrels.