Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

Still not sure what Jones thinks about E. She is a bundle of new delicious smells, so there’s that, but it’s as if he already knows she’s a core member of the pack. Because after we unstrapped the feedbag and made our tardy way into the dog park, Jones raced toward us and jumped his highest circus dog jumps to confirm she was there. Then he wouldn’t leave us despite the friendly beagle’s overtures, and kept looking up at her in L.’s arms. One slow trip around the perimeter was all I was good for, though, and the prospect of no real walks for about six weeks is a drag for all interested parties, alas.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

Hey kids! Want to make some extra money? Do you like dogs? Here’s an exciting opportunity with one of the most innovative and fun places to work in Oregon. We’re hiring a select team of highly motivated kids to chase Jones at the dog park. Bonus available for making him really tired. Set your own hours! Work as much as you want! Competitive rates. Must provide own sneakers.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

As Kenny Rogers said, there’s someone for everyone (and Tommy’s love was Becky). So I’m glad there seem to be plenty of people who appreciate the dachshund, which is a breed whose original function–hunting rodents in their holes–has overwhelmed its form–long & low. I find them unbeautiful and inconvenient. The poor guys need stairs to get up on the couch. And they can’t move all that fast on those short legs although Jones had a fairly satisfying romp with one today. Jones did most of the running.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

Once again, Ramona met the love of her life in a tiny Chihuahua job that willingly submitted to Ramona’s attentions. She likes to get them on the ground between her paws and just nose them around. It’s very gentle but she doesn’t let up. Eventually this guy tried to seek refuge between its person’s legs and Ramona sat there in front of them and barked: You. Must. Love. Me. Jones was jealous, used to having Ramona all to himself, and proceeded to hump her. She shook him off, besotted.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

I’m afraid all our weight loss success will be undone by the quantity of dog treats the vet and her assistant shoveled into Jones while he was in the exam room pressing his scared little body into mine. But he’s made it back under 26 pounds, down from a high of 27.4 last October, so yay. The dog park is on the way home so we stopped in for a little off-leash social time before the rain promised for the afternoon. Chasing after a basketball occurred, also some frolicking inspired by a twinset of whippets, those dogs that look as though they are constructed from paperclips.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

Poor Ramona suffered from some old lady dog ailment that might have been cured with prune juice, but instead she just kept crouching and straining then dragging her beleaguered butthole on the muddy grass. It didn’t seem to affect her mood, though, which remained steadfastly buoyant. She does love the dog park. So many people to pet her and tell her how wonderful she is. So many little dogs to sniff and crowd. Jones was happy today too at the amazing coincidence of not one but three! of his human chums from his days at the dog daycare. He was all wiggly and giddy to see them, but strangely, he didn’t jump up on them as he does with every other person he adores. Which is probably a testament to the regimen at the dog daycare, despite its bourgeois premise. It’s true that I disdained the dog birthday parties and the gift bags that came home with Jones, but I did love it when he was picked Dog of the Day four times in 15 months, which is four more times than Buddy the beagle ever got in two years of regular attendance.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park plus, Eugene

reasons why

Jones put on the Tiny Tim act in his shiny new raincoat (thanks P.!), doing this kind of limping mince around the dog park. I loosened the velcro around his neck but he kept standing in one place or hobbling slowly like a poor crippled dog. One squirrel was all it took to prove that he actually had no trouble running, the faker.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

Today’s dog park visit is brought to you by the letter B, for the dogs named Barclay, Bentley, Buddy, and Booty, and a bevy of three Boston Terriers. Also rubber boots to guard against mud. Also a bloodhound’s bunny toy, scuzzed and therefore extremely attractive to Jones, who snatched it and beat a quick retreat. Booty was all smiles through his jacked-up underbite after enjoying a meeting of minds and butt smelling with Buddy. In the car, the upholstery was bespattered with aforementioned scuzz. A good time for all, by golly.

Cat poop consumed: yes

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

I left the sweet potato pies (savory, not sweet) cooling in the trunk of the car while we enjoyed a dog park experience. Are there usually so many people out walking and running in the middle of the day? The dog park was unexpectedly popular too. Despite encouragement from several other dogs, Jones lingered on the periphery of the wrestling and ball chasing today. He’s not opposed to other dogs; in fact he’s crazy about Ramona, and pretty fond of Chubs, not to mention a certain something for Mr. Krabs, so you’d think the dog park crowds would provide a Thanksgiving feast of fun. He’s selective. I think he prefers a greater depth of connection than these superficial encounters provide.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

The rock and roll lifestyle is not exactly conducive to a stable dog routine, as evidenced by my inability to get out of bed this morning until after eight, and only then with a one-shot-of-bourbon-I-lost-my-wallet-last-night headache, feeling as though I’d been clubbed. After a big eggy breakfast and black tea, there was only enough time for a short trip to the dog park, which was surprisingly crowded for 9:30 am on a damp & cold Tuesday. I bet whoever has my wallet is using my campus ID to ride the city bus with wild abandon, I speculated to L. I bet they’re checking out all kinds of library books that they’ll never return.

Cat poop consumed: no