Thursday we visited Burlington's Starr Farm Dog Park. I have been there many times, and I usually serve as pack leader/park greeter. I go there and run and run and run and run... and when I'm not running, I'm dog-wrassling. It's a great time.
Except on Thursday, my attitude towards the park was a little different. I haven't visited all summer, and you know? At four years old -- almost five -- I sort of felt... over it. I didn't really run much. Yes, there were other dogs there. And yes, some wanted to play -- including a 1-year-old yellow lab that weighed like 80 pounds. At one point I did sort of chase two brown huskies -- but I admit it was half-hearted. I guess ever since Gladys joined the family, I can do all the dog-wrassling I want right in the living room. And with our almost-daily walks to the river, running around in an open space is really not a novelty. I'm not saying I'll never visit the park again -- and I may even run around next time. All I'm saying is that, for me, the luster has sort of worn off the dog park.
Am I spoiled? Do I have it made? I'm not going to say.
But I think you know the answer.
