Arf!
On Monday afternoon, I fulfilled one of my New York City dreams. I went to the dog park with an actual dog! Okay, it wasn't my dog, it was Steph's. And it's just a 4 pound puppy, so we had to go to the adjacent small dog enclosure--and we were the only ones there. But that ended up being a good move, since a fight broke out in the big dog enclosure, initiated by a tall, muzzled greyhound-type dog wearing a blue turtleneck.
We got to the dog park at a particularly busy time. At least 15 dogs were running around in there. Ollie, Steph's puppy, had never been around so many dogs before and was EXCITED. He didn't even care that he was by himself in the small enclosure, because he could smell the other dogs (anyone, human or canine, within a 20 foot radius of the dog park can smell them quite clearly) and that was enough.
Rather, it was enough until another small dog and his owners joined us, and then Ollie went CRAZY. He's so small that his legs don't really work right--he's kinda slow--so the other dog really put him in his place. They played, but Ollie knew who was boss--not him--and definitely showed it. The other dog used her front paw to direct Ollie, and let him chase her around, and Ollie yelped with pleasure or maybe with frustration.
This story isn't really exciting until you consider that I, Emil, was in the dog park with dogs around me. I don't think anyone from my childhood reads this blog, but if they do they're probably wondering if it's really me writing here. I've been scared of dogs since I was 4 when two German Shepherds knocked me down at Windy Valley while I was eating strawberry ice cream and waiting for my turn to ride the pony. They stole my ice cream right out of my hand.
From that day on, I hated dogs so much that I completely blocked out the fact that we HAD a dog until my brother was born. I only recently discovered this while looking at an old photo album. Fear was further instilled when I was about 9 and my parents, foolishly considering adopting a dog, took us to the pet store to look at potential adoptees. The pet store locked my family in a small room with a hyperactive white dog who caused me extreme mental trauma by jumping on me and licking me. We got a cat instead.
Javert can tell you that until recently, I really believed every dog that looked at me on the street was thinking to itself "I would like to eat her." And maybe they are. But I don't think so. I'm not really sure when this transformation occurred, but I definitely like (most) dogs now.
I doubt I'll own a dog anytime soon though, because I want a big one and my apartment can barely contain two crazy cats. Plus, I can't imagine really going out in the cold or late at night or really any time at all to walk the dog--I'm way too lazy for that. I don't even clean the litter box, I make Javert do it.
Therefore, until I have a yard where the dog can go out alone, I must remain content to watch shows like Underdogs and Dogs with Jobs and hope that this newfound fearlessness continues.
We got to the dog park at a particularly busy time. At least 15 dogs were running around in there. Ollie, Steph's puppy, had never been around so many dogs before and was EXCITED. He didn't even care that he was by himself in the small enclosure, because he could smell the other dogs (anyone, human or canine, within a 20 foot radius of the dog park can smell them quite clearly) and that was enough.
Rather, it was enough until another small dog and his owners joined us, and then Ollie went CRAZY. He's so small that his legs don't really work right--he's kinda slow--so the other dog really put him in his place. They played, but Ollie knew who was boss--not him--and definitely showed it. The other dog used her front paw to direct Ollie, and let him chase her around, and Ollie yelped with pleasure or maybe with frustration.
This story isn't really exciting until you consider that I, Emil, was in the dog park with dogs around me. I don't think anyone from my childhood reads this blog, but if they do they're probably wondering if it's really me writing here. I've been scared of dogs since I was 4 when two German Shepherds knocked me down at Windy Valley while I was eating strawberry ice cream and waiting for my turn to ride the pony. They stole my ice cream right out of my hand.
From that day on, I hated dogs so much that I completely blocked out the fact that we HAD a dog until my brother was born. I only recently discovered this while looking at an old photo album. Fear was further instilled when I was about 9 and my parents, foolishly considering adopting a dog, took us to the pet store to look at potential adoptees. The pet store locked my family in a small room with a hyperactive white dog who caused me extreme mental trauma by jumping on me and licking me. We got a cat instead.
Javert can tell you that until recently, I really believed every dog that looked at me on the street was thinking to itself "I would like to eat her." And maybe they are. But I don't think so. I'm not really sure when this transformation occurred, but I definitely like (most) dogs now.
I doubt I'll own a dog anytime soon though, because I want a big one and my apartment can barely contain two crazy cats. Plus, I can't imagine really going out in the cold or late at night or really any time at all to walk the dog--I'm way too lazy for that. I don't even clean the litter box, I make Javert do it.
Therefore, until I have a yard where the dog can go out alone, I must remain content to watch shows like Underdogs and Dogs with Jobs and hope that this newfound fearlessness continues.
posted by Emil at 2:02 PM
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