Lessons from the dog park

Running along the winding bike paths out at Minto Brown park is cathartic. Oh, it’s also painful and wheezy, with my body out of shape and my allergies in full bloom--but the lazy landscape lush with new crops in rich dark brown dirt and thickets of berries and the birds’ joyous hymns cleanse my soul. Turbo is tireless, glancing impatiently at me when I run too slowly to suit his druthers.

 

Among the lighter elements of this catharsis—a few lessons I’ve learned--I have seen:

1) The silhouette of a family of Dad, Mom, Boy, Girl—trailing into the sunset, fishing poles over their shoulders.

 

Lesson learned: There are still whole, complete families out there. Maybe it is still an attainable dream.

 

2) A middle-aged woman in blue denim overalls, hair a mess, on a very quiet, out of the way trail, dabbing her eyes as she walked.

 

          Lesson learned: I’m not the only one crying.

 

3) Children running unchecked in the dog park—possibly through waste and mess and at the mercy of all unleashed dogs.

 

                                           Lesson learned: Some parents really do not get it.

 

4) Unfamiliar dogs approach each other—stand stiff, look to the side, sniff each other, wag tails, then nonchalantly continue down the trail.

 

Lesson learned: Be polite, even when out of your comfort zone—but be wary.

 

And just from my own experience: chewing gum while running requires sticking it way back behind your teeth when close to the creek. Gnats travel in big ol’ swarms, and believe me, when you have to take a breath in the middle of one, you really don’t want a wad of gum in the middle of your mouth!