Couch (cūch) Park Dog

On our way to the park, I was thinking that every time we come here late at night, no other person is ever here, let alone another fool and his dog. Once I had this thought and took five steps, oh doggy o’mine winds up accidentally scaring the only other loose dog who also happened to be at the park. I had let Roo off the leash and thrown her toy frisbee to her. She leapt and caught it only to tear across the field to say hi to other dog. Unfortunately, the other dog’s owner became quite frightened (because dogs with neon yellow frisbees dangling from their mouths are an obvious threat) and abruptly leashed up his big white dog. They quickly left in the opposite direction. His dog was quite a bit larger than Roo but maybe his dog hips were too old to deal with young mutts or he just had his nuts whacked and wasn’t supposed to play to that day. So they made tracks. Regardless, I was embarrassed for my dog screwing up their peaceful night. I soon got over it because his dog was already loose and mine just wanted to join. Peaceful shmeaseful. This is the city, soft belly, where things sometime reach an edge and you have to be ready for anything.

We and by “we” I mean “me”, had decided to then play a condensed version of frisbee by keeping the dog on an extendable leash. I could throw the frisbee tall into the air but not very far away as to be able to have her run and catch it while still attached to the leash.

Until I threw it too far and and foolishly thought that I could hang on while she bolted after that thing, I was soon tumbling like a yard sale down a mountainside in the middle of MLC field, attached to a single-minded gun dog chasing neon “prey”. The rain doesn’t always soften the ground but my bones sure seemed to turn to splinters as I thudded. Presently, I can barely take a full breath without my left neck aching. Dang dog.


I Am Who I Am

There is a need to write, express, impress, elude depression, devote time and thought into finding ways to seek acceptance and accolades by organizing words. This need is in my blood, my steps, my everyday meandering and whether I take the time to write or not, its always a conscious thought on the brink of action. Or more often, inaction! And as I face myself in this morning mirror about to attack a day at work I’m really not entirely excited about, I remember how fun it is to write. Regardless if it’s read by anyone or if it’s thoughtful or considered as anything but quick, silly, drivel. Having fun is paramount, everything else is droll duty. Haha. Doody.