09 September 2011

The Dog Park


  I have always loved dogs and lately I have found a terrific way to feed my infatuation. My new friend Lucy is a wonderful companion, and through her I have been introduced to the wonderful world of the dog park and in turn hundreds upon hundreds of wonderful canines. It is a place where I can meditate on cuteness, bath in a concentration of adorable energy and let the interactions of these fantastic creatures feed my soul with large morsels of furry, joyous energy.
  The dog park allows me to pet and bond with many different personalities and breeds. I am not in a situation at present where I can own my own wolf pack, but the dog park provides me with my very own temporary pack of dogs. It is a fantasy world where I can pretend to have all the different breeds I could ever wish or hope for. 
  The owners of the dogs sometimes pose a bit of a problem. On occasions they have the audacity to try and strike up a conversation with me when I am attempting to ingratiate myself to their animal. I have clearly made no attempt at communicating with them, the "owner" so I find their attempts at inane conversation rather impolite. Can't they understand I am in a dog rapture and do not wish to be disturbed? I resent when the humans ask profane questions of me and so I fob them off with a cursory nod, a lazy half smile and the most basic phatic communion.
  The voice that I use to speak to dogs is not of course my everyday voice. It has been described as crazy and manic but I know for a fact that the dogs love it, find it charismatic and intoxicating and understand me better because of it. When I say "fact" I mean my completely imaginary belief that I have a gift of being able to communicate with the animals. I can't prove I have a gift of communicating with animals but, to bastardize a quote from another grand character of the imagination, without faith in my delusions I am nothing but a crazy wannabe dog whisperer. At the moment I'm not ready to let my dog whisperer alter ego die. 
  Another great aspect of the dog park and one that I find very therapeutic, indeed I think this is a big reason I find this place so enjoyable, is the ability to project my own stories onto the relationships and the dogs themselves. As I am a frequent attendee, I have certain favorites and have thrust upon them character traits for my own amusement. Like the mute in Carson McCullers'  "The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter", I can project onto these beauteous little beasts the most frivolous romantic comedies and melodramas. It is a little reality show unto itself and allows me to release, escape and be a happy fly on the wall observing their free and primal lives while creating stories in my mind.
  I can't quite crystalize why I am obsessed with dogs. Perhaps it is their attitude towards life,  how ready they are to flick the joy switch at any opportunity and play, play, play. I just know that a visit to the dog park is a way I can have some quality  "me time" and pump up my soul with a fix of dogginess.