Category: dog park

Dog park attracts weird people

Yesterday we went to the dog park. The weather was nice and my mom wanted a break. So I got to take one too.

I was kind of roaming around, looking for trouble and collecting lots of butt scratches from the humans. Not much was happening when we were there.

Then a man came with a nice dog, just about the right size and temperament for me. I went over, following dog etiquette, and introduced myself with a friendly sniff. I said hello. I went into play posture. The other dog did too. We were on the same wavelength.

Soon we were happily chasing each other. My mom walked over and told the dog’s owner, “They’re playing so well together. Isn’t that great?”

To her amazemenet, the other dog’s owner wasn’t happy. “Keep your dog away from my dog,” he snarled, snapping on a leash.

“Huh?” my mom said. “This is a dog park. If you bring your dog here, other dogs will play.”

The man huffily took his dog out of the park.

“Weird,” was the consensus among the humans…and me too. We were having fun! That poor dog needs some playtime.

“Some people shouldn’t own dogs,” said the owner of a brown dog of unknown breed.

“I agree,” my mom shuddered.

Me too. Sometimes I wonder:  If I’d waited longer, would I have had a better owner? Maybe Bill Gates would have come along and adopted me.

But on days like today, I realize things ccould be a lot worse. Almost every day I get to visit the dog park or the dog lounge. I get to play with anybody I want.

I bet that dog would trade places with me anytime.

Copywriting Tips My Mom Learned From Her Cats

My mom Cathy wrote a funny article about how the cats taught her to be a better copywriter. You can read the article here.

My favorite:

#1: Walk on the edge and take some risks.

These lazy good-for-nothings take no risks. Ophelia’s too fat to jump up on the counter to eat dinner, let alone walk on the edge. Of course my mom wrote this article when she still had Tiger, who was jumping around almost till the day she died.

#3: Expect to be appreciated.

Mom got this one wrong. “Dogs beg for attention,” she wrote. “Cats take it for granted.”

Ex-cuuuse me! Do I beg for anything that doesn’t promise food? I get all the attention I need without asking. And then some.

And #10: Who cares if someone hates you? There’s always another food dish around the corner.

All I can say is, don’t count on it. And the cats can give you all the copywriting tips. I’m the one who keeps you going when your schedule gets crazy and you need a little love…or a LOT of love.

And now I shall return to my nap. We had a beautiful day at the dog park, didn’t we? Who forced you out the door to enjoy this beautiful weather?

Next article, Mom: 10 tips on enjoying life I learned from my Canine Urban Princess – the world’s first CUPPIE.

My owner needs the exercise…so why do I get involved?

Yesterday Cathy decided she should drop by her gym for a quick workout. She was having withdrawal symptoms after her nearby gym branch closed, along with her killer Sunday workout.

Great idea, mom. But why did you drop me off at the dog lounge? I was ready for a nap.

Fortunately for me, I found some nice dogs whose owners had gone away for the weekend. Some of us are old friends by now. Even more fortunately, Summer brought me up front to hang out with her at the reception desk. So I got a good rest while my mom did her thing.

After she picked me up, Cathy took me across the street to the dog park. I connected with a rowdy French bulldog who let me chase him for a good half hour.

Cathy didn’t budge. She sat in the sun. I could have got away with anything.

Soon my tongue was hanging and even my dim-witted fanatical owner got the message. Time to go home and eat. Crunchies for me, carrots for my Mom.

Hopefully we’ll get a day of rest on Labor Day, but I doubt it.

Dog-gone good Sundays

My mom Cathy keeps busy so she likes to combine her projects and errands. Yesterday she needed to go food shopping and take me for a walk, so we went to Pike Place Market. It’s a leading tourist attraction, especially in summer. Perfect or a CUPPIE: right downtown and dogs allowed.

I like Pike Place Market. All those tourists miss their dogs and they make a fuss over me. Usually I can scarf up some forbidden food. Yesterday I had a big piece of pizza crust in my mouth when my mom stopped and, right in front of everybody, yelled, “Drop!” She pulled that tasy tidbit right out of my mouth. Sigh.

But another reason I like Pike Place market is this: I can usually persuade my mom to stop by the dog park on the way home. On weekends she’s ready for some friendly conversation and there’s always at least one familiar face for her. I get extra running time.

And yesterday I got a bonus. Cathy was so tired she was falling asleep over her laptop. She didn’t notice I’d grabbed a hunk of cheese until it was almost gone. Yum! See, I’m saving her from all those calories.

Cathy doesn’t agree. Luckily it was the low-end cheddar. “If I’d bought Double Gloucester, you’d be in the dog house,” she told me firmly.

Good while it lasted. Off to another nap. Maybe next time we’ll stop by 3 Dog Bakery because I am named after the founder’s dog. The fact that they have awesome peanut buter treats is completely irrelevant.

Dog Park a Community

Our neighborhood dog park, Regrade Park in the Belltown area, used to be a scary drug park. We love going there, or at least I do. I like jumping on the walls and leaping off the ledges.

And sometimes I just need to stretch out. Yes: that’s me in the foreground of this photo. me at the dog park

Mostly, I like all the attentiion I get from the other dog owners.

Yesterday we ran into a delightful woman who recognized me at once.. She cooed to me in baby talk and gave me a good butt scratch. She even brushed away some of the fur I’m shedding for summer (got the hint, mom?). Turns out she’s a physician in private practice.

I’ve also been patted by people with tattoos and piercings, people who are homeless and come to the park to share the love, people who are living in subsidized housing, people who are in the military, people who are living in mansions, lawyers, real estate agents…you name it. “Jail to Yale,” says Lindsay, our volunteer Park Steward.

There’s even a Regrade Park virtual community on yahoo. Recently, my mom read me a note from a Travel Nurse we met a few months ago. While she’d been working in Seattle, she wrote, she used to come here and she appreciated the community. She missed us!

True. My mom likes coming here because she meets real live people and has real conversations, after a day of working on the Internet with invisible people.

It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Some folks wn’t come at all. They go to the country parks.

But with a mom who hates to drive, it’s a perfect park for a CUPPIE (Canine Urban Princess) like me. I bet we go at least once over this weekend.

Dog Tired

My mom Cathy is getting frustrated with her caregiving role. She says, “Tiger bounces around just like old times. She just won’t eat enough. She’s so thin and dehydrated.”

I’m not bouncing anywhere. Yesterday we went to the dog park. I stopped for a chat and a butt scratch from some friendly folks. Cathy was not amused. “You’re here for exercise!” she said.

So I ran around so she could catch up on her conversations with the regulars. And then we walked part way home. I am still tired. My mom is too but she will never admit it.

“I refuse to say I’m getting older,” she says. “Sunday and Monday I had two tough exercises classes in a row…all weights and barbells. Who wouldn’t be a little…um…well, not bouncy?”

Hey mom, I’ll jump right in (but not literally). I’ll be six in October and I’m no puppy any more.

Our big mystery: how does that tough old tabby cat jump on to the kitchen counter? She may be on her last paws, but like Mehitabel, there’s life in the old dame yet.

“Mom slows down…”

My mom Cathy tends to ignore most physical symptoms with, “It’ll just go away if we wait.”

She says she gets her philosophy from the time she actually visited doctors who were prejudiced against women, especially single women. Eventually she stopped going to doctors because, she says, “I don’t have to pay big bucks to hear, ‘It’s all in your mind.’ ”

Of course she drags me to the vet if I sneeze twice in a row, but that’s another story.

But Cathy finally admitted her running shoes were creating a blister. She switched shoes so the yucky red area would be exposed to air and heal, a trick she learned when I got nicked at the dog park last year.

sneakersDoes anyone remember the episode on Seinfeld where Kramer goes to a dog doctor for a cough? My mom didn’t laugh. She thought it was a great idea.

Cathy dug out her only other pair of wearable shoes: her 10-year-old Birkenstocks. Not quite as comfy as her running shoes so we’re walking less.

Yesterday we bussed to the dog park and I had to run around whether I wanted to or not.

“We can’t go on a long walk,” my mom said, “or I’ll get new blisters from the Birkies. So you’d better run around now.” She herself went to an exercise class where she got to go barefoot.

Someone once told my mom, “A tired dog is a good dog.” That’s one saying she never forgot.

What happened to, “Dogs need treats every day?” I like that rule.

A royal workout at the dog park

Saturday (yesterday) was supposed to be a one-day heat wave. So my mom got up at the crack of dawn (ouch) and we ambled off to the dog park. I made some new friends and played for almost 40 minutes.

My mom was enjoying herself, talking to a whole new crowd. She tells everyone she used to be shy. Hah.

My tongue was hanging out and I couldn’t wait to get home to my castle. From the outside my castle looks like an ordinary large-size dog crate, but it’s my inner sanctum and private retreat. I love it…especially my kong toy, which smells like peanut butter and gives me hours of blissful chewing.

Caution: Dog Owner at Work

Uh-oh. Mom’s put on her copywriting music. She favors classical and she listens to whatever’s playing at the next Seattle Symphony concert she’s attending. Today it’s a Mozart piano concerto. Very soothing.dog helps owner work

Since Mom’s working seriously, I get to entertain myself this  morning.  Hre I am curled up on the couch, helping my mom who’s working on her laptop. Yeah, my ears go up when I’m sleeping. Don’t ask.

Fortunately Cathy feels guilty when she’s busy and she sends me off with Sara the dogwalker from Walkabout Pet Care. Sara takes a few neighborhood dogs to Magnuson Dog Park where I get to run around for a hour or so, full speed, sniffing the wind and the water. Most dogs are regulars and we’ve become friends.

“Not fair,” my mom sighs. “Gracie, why don’t you stay home and write some copy and I’ll go play in the park?”

Nice try, Mom. Maybe in your next life you get to come back as your own dog.

Visiting the dog park on a sunny day

Saturday was so beautiful. Mom was thrilled to be wearing shorts. I liked feeling sun on my fur .entering Regrade Dog Park

So after my bath and some play time at the Dog Lounge, we just had to go to the Dog Park across the street.

Look at all those rules! The only one I care about is, “Bring food at your own risk.” One day some wonderful person (my word) or idiot (my mom’s view) brought her lunch and left a whole bagel untended for all of 10 seconds. I grabbed a half and raced around the park, competing with half a dozen other dogs. Great exercise and I was the big winner.

“If Gracie steals food in the park, I’m not paying anyone a dime,” my mom says. This time she’s right.

Here’s a photo of Ed, one of the park regulars, with Sheba, one of his two dogs.

Ed likes to fuss over me (who doesn’t?), but Sheba gets jealous and knocks me down. When that happens I go over to Cathy and say, “It’s time to go home.”

We met a new dog on Saturday: Jack, newly adopted by Melissa and Jeremy.

dog park visitor with dog

They found Jack on Craigslist. He’s shaved because his fur was matted and he came with a digestive disorder. Apparently he’s allergic to corn and wheat so he’s on a special diet and doing fine. He was already house trained and very polite but they weren’t sure how he’d deal with other dogs and people.

Of course I checked him out and I’m so mellow, few dogs can resist. They even use me for temperament tests in the Dog Lounge. Within minutes Jack was sniffing out new friends all over the park.

We were waiting at the bus stop when they hailed a cab. I had to laugh. The driver seemed to be asking about the dog but Melissa was firm. “He’ll just sit on the seat and he’s very good in cars.” No room for discussion.

My mom needs to do that when we hail our own cabs. She usually brings something for me to sit on so I won’t get fur on the seats. She doesn’t argue: if they won’t take us, she’ll get another cab. I prefer the bus, myself. Some drivers welcome me and I love being the center of attention.

Dog sleeping

After a day of getting a bath, playing in the dog lounge and then catching up with my dog park friends, I was exhausted. Cathy wants me to sleep on my cushion but I’m too tired to care. Here I am dreaming about springtime in Seattle.