Dags.

As you read this you will no doubt say to yourself, “Surely she will post pictures at the end of this chunk of words!” but, alas, you will be wrong. I totally forgot that I now own a tiny camera instead of a hulking behemoth and, well, the camera did not accompany us on our adventure.

The showings this evening started at 6 and went until 7:30. I always try to leave about 15 minutes early so that I can be certain the dogs are ready to go (leashes, poop bags, etc.) and that the house has been fully prepped (all lights on, light dusting of air freshner, rats and birds covered securely). I also try to stay away for an extra 15 minutes so the dogs aren’t howling in the front yard because they’re tired of me hauling them around the ‘hood for hours on end. (They get bored of the walking much faster than I do.)

To sum, I needed to be out of the house for 2 hours this afternoon.

I figured it was as good an excuse as any to take the idiots to the leash free park in Burlington, so I tossed them into the car where they proceeded to yelp at ear-splitting ranges, bark like idiots, froth and shed every single loose hair on their bodies. My car seats look like a dog exploded. Seriously. The windows are covered in smears of snot and goop and whatever else comes out of dog faces. But we made it to the park in about 20 minutes and got ourselves into the leash-free zone without incident and I’ll be hosing my car’s interior down on the weekend.

It’s worth noting, I suppose, that despite my genuine affection for human beings as a group, I am completely and utterly incapable of assimilating myself into that group. I cannot make my face into a ‘friendly’ expression (I suspect it’s merely frozen into “please dear god, don’t look at me!”), nor can I make eye contact with strangers, and when someone speaks to me I instantly behave as if I’ve never spoken to another human before. But there were dogs there, right? Surely that would help. All that’s needed is some polite curiosity about other peoples’ dogs, right? Ha. Not if you’re me. Noooooo…

When we arrived I let the dogs off their leashes and noticed the couple sitting on the picnic table lean toward each other, looking at me, and start whispering. That was the end for me. I couldn’t even say “hello!” to people. I was totally certain that I didn’t fit in. Was it my “Evil” shirt? My sunglasses? My ponytail or flipflops? I spent much of the time at the park standing off to the side petting other people’s dogs and staring into space. I would love nothing more than to be able to strike up a conversation with a stranger, but, alas, I suck.

(I should note, here, that they may very well have been talking about ANYTHING other than me. But I noticed them whispering and looking at me and got all insecure and ridiculous and.. yeah. Oooookay..)

Zooey spent the entire time at the park running around trying to maul a 10-month old Newfie and the SIX Great Danes that were loping around the grass. She didn’t quite come up to their knees, but she was covered in their slobber and having the time of her life. She had no desire to be near me, other than when she needed to catch her breath, and I’m pretty sure she developed a crush on the Newfie in particular since she was leaping through the air (over and over) to get her nose into the Newf’s butthole. She was also smothered with love from every human who got near her – I could hear the “Awww, aren’t YOU cute!” noises from several meters away where I was slowly turning into a chameleon and blending into the scenery. When it was time to go home I had to all-but tackle her to get the leash on while she looked at me as if to say that I was ruining her life and the Worst Dog Mom EVER. She sulked the whole way to the car.

Daisy, on the other hand, wanted to leave the moment we arrived. It’s the same every time we go to the leash-free parks. We arrive, she half-heartedly sniffs the ground, pees once or twice, then stands by the exit gate looking desperate. I empathize with her, given my own inability to join the proverbial pack, but I had to draw the line when she started making a mad dash through the gate whenever someone arrived or departed. She was determined to get the hell out of there. In the end, I affixed her leash to her collar, dragged her to the furthest end of the park and released her a few times. I’ve never seen her run so fast before – straight to the exit.

An hour and 20 minutes later, Daisy dragged me (and I dragged Zooey) to the car again and we hit the road to come back home. Within 30 seconds of driving they were both sound asleep in the back seat. Zooey was snoring and half-collapsed on Daisy – Daisy had sprawled out across the entire back seat. I took them for a quick pee when we arrived home, and both dogs have been sound asleep ever since. This is a very nice perk. Very nice.

I cannot wait until we have a fenced yard. That might actually be my favourite part of moving.