Drenched in Dew

Woodbine Park - Toronto

As Pajamas and I started out on our early Saturday walk on this foggy August morning I felt serenity take a hold.  It is so calming to take in the neighborhood on these quiet weekend mornings when the sun has yet to burn away the cool misty nighttime air.  The streets are practically deserted, sidewalks owned by joggers and dog owners.  We stop at a favorite coffee shop where Pj waits patiently at the window, while I go in to get my morning fix.

Coffee happily in hand, we wander through the rows of houses and along the lakeshore watching the shoreline appear as the fog begins to lift.  This is what life is all about.  Quiet mornings that awaken my creativity and energize me for the day.  I think about how lucky I am to have this loving, furry companion at my side as we walk along in peace…

My guard is down as we reach the large park near my house.  I see Pj’s step quicken as we enter.  There’s no one else around and I know she wants to be free.  I reach down and unclasp her leash, watching as she runs ahead.  She finds a fresh patch of grass and flips over, rolling on her back, covering herself in dew.  She’s soaked and looking oh so pleased.  She bursts on ahead.  I’m still smiling to myself, enjoying this time and watching my dog as she flips and rolls and runs through the dew when she sees it.  A ball.  A ball just sitting in the grass unclaimed!  This is too good to be true.  Pajamas races to the ball proceeded by a very loud victory lap around the park.  “Bowowowow!” she proclaims flipping the ball in the air.  My moment of serenity is gone.

Fine we have a ball, I thought to myself.  I can throw it a couple of time for her; maybe let her carry it home.  But Pajamas has another plan.  This isn’t just any ball.  It’s a disowned ball.  It’s blue and yellow and still firm and fuzzy.  Hardly used.  She won’t give it up; won’t even let me get close.  She creates more and more distance between us.  The more I try and grab the ball the further and louder she gets!  “Bowowowow!” she says lying with the ball between her front paws.  My feet are soaked from traipsing through the wet grass. 

It’s time for another approach, reverse psychology.  I stand, arms crossed, back to my dog.  Pj lays facing me, ball under nose and she barks and barks and barks. I am determined to wait her out. At this moment, a man walks by with a Weimaraner .  “Looks like a stand off” he says.  “Oh it sure is” I reply as Pj continues to bark. 

Plan B.  I give up and turn around conceding to walk the path around the park waiting for the opportunity to seize the ball.  It comes faster than expected, not minutes after turning to walk back down the path, Pj drops the ball at the edge of the path to examine a smell in the grass.  I seize the opportunity stomping on the ball as Pj turns to grab it.  Gotcha! I leash my dog, ball victoriously in hand and we leave the park drenched in dew, that foggy peaceful morning feeling like a distant memory.