A Puppy Play Date

I just had what could only be considered the doggy-equivalent of a play-date. While spending three hours at the dog park with Peanut, where dogs fly about in a leash-less utopia, sniffing one another and frolicking about in a slobbery, joyous frenzy while the adults watched and discussed puppy age/type/naming, etc., I met the following: Coco the Pomeranian (9 years old, a little over 5 pounds, the vet thinks 'too heavy' so now Mother is concerned), Lori the Labradoodle (accompanied by Jim the Professional Dogwalker), Yorkie Bizzy (Jim's Real Dog), Black Lab Nikki (she had a slobbery yellow ball and a liberal feminist 50-something Mother who was yelled at by Nazi Baby Father to put poor bumbling Nikki on a leash, further propogating the idea that People who have Babies instead of Dogs are Rude and High-Maintenance), and French Mastiff Leo (6 months old and bigger than I am). Then there was the Treasure of the Day: Ezekiel--or Zekey--my new little 2 year old friend. He acted as the human equivalent of a dog and chased around Peanut and Leo all afternoon, calling Peanut "A Peanut," as in, "Where's A Peanut??" or "I have A Peanut's ball!" and when introducing him to another little boy: "That's A Peanut!" He referred to Leo as "Lelo," as in "BAD LELO! That's A Peanut's ball!" or "LeloLeloLelo!" Lelo's father, Steve, taught Zekey how to say "Drop it!" to the dogs so Zekey could steal their balls, but it turned out to be ineffectual when shrieked from a human only three feet tall. I taught Zekey how to roll down a hill (for the record, it is just as much fun as it was twenty years ago, and A LOT FASTER than you remember),and we also played a rousing game of "CATCH ME!" which, after three thousand rounds, led to a game I called "You Go Catch A Peanut While I Sit Down." Then there were the Outsiders. You could tell those who didn't belong to the puppy play group community because One, they used LEASHES, the uptight bastards, and TWO, they'd FREEZE on the path, yanking their dogs close while yours leaped about, and only resuming their walk when you've called your dog a sufficient distance away. We all stopped and stared at These Paranoid People and then whispered about them when they were out of earshot: "They're not from around here." "Did you see the way she pulled that huge dog away from Bizzy? He's a YORKIE!" "I'll bet she doesn't use a poo bag."

Yes, people. This is a puppy play group. And Thursdays after work, at the park across the street, they do the same thing, but with WINE. Just like a good play group should be: mommies and daddies drinking while babies roll around and get dirty. Now THESE are people I can get behind.