Louie's social life was better than mine, and since he was still with me, I'd declare him to be mine for as long as possible. There were several young dogs that got along well with my boy at the dog park. They'd run and romp and have a splendid time. I had no idea what any of the humans were named, but I knew all of the dogs. Dusty and Thud, a pair of collies, belonged to an older couple who came twice a week. Bower, as timid a Rottweiler you'd ever meet, was owned by a guy in his mid 50s, he rescued her from a puppy mill. And the list went on. Louie had a thing for the Chihuahuas something about protecting them from the bigger dogs, I 'd guess. There was one pair of females that followed him like they were his harem. Since this was Thursday, I knew they'd be at the park with their human, Sandy or Cindy, something like that.
After we entered the park and I unleashed my boy, he made a mad dash for the first mud puddle he saw. It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd been a full grown shepherd, but he was a bit low to the ground and was forever getting his undercarriage coated in thick, black, sticky mud.
"Man, Lou, why do you do this to me?" I muttered. Then I smiled. He was being true to his nature and finding joy where it was. Something I don't remember doing since I was a little girl; I'd saved it until I had a little girl of my own. Now that dream was feeling more distant than ever, not that it was ever close. I yelled at the top of my lungs, "You go, Lou!" I laughed from the bottom of my soul, something else that was long since over due.
A petite blond man in white jeans and black t-shirt looked at me like I lost my mind. I pointed to my dog and said, "It's a great day to be a dog, isn't it?"
He shrugged. "I guess."
"Which one is yours or do you have a pack?"
"Just the one," he said. He indicated a tiny pug in a pink sweater who was sniffing a low bush that hadn't flowered yt.
"Ah, she's precious," I said. "I'm Bernie."
"So am I," he said. "Pretty funny."
We both smiled and stood together for a few minutes.
"Well, I should go," I said. "Louie can't get a lot muddier and I've got to drop some clothes off to a homeless shelter after I get him cleaned up."
"That's good of you," he said. "I'm surprised you don't try to consign them."
"I just feel better knowing that someone else can wear something. some of the stuff is decent enough if someone is going to interview for a job." I wasn't trying to tout charitable instincts, I just wanted to let him know that I know there's a bigger world than just me. Besides, I shop in those places and there are plenty of people who need a hand up and can't necessarily afford a couple of dollars for a t-shirt or something warm.
"If you don't mind, I've got a suggestion," he said. He named a local battered women's shelter. "They can always use business clothes for the women there." He searched his pocket and withdrew a crumpled business card. "Here and tell them Bernie sent you."
"I'll do that," I said. "Thanks."
~~~
I hummed as I hosed Louie off on the back porch. He didn't overmuch mind the cool water and I didn't mind a few puddles in the house as long as they weren't full of mud.
I searched the internet for videos about altering clothes and decided I would be better off having someone else turn up a few hems for me until I took a sewing class or two. As we say in the trade, measure twice and cut once. Far better for someone else to do the cutting!
~~~
tbc 678
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