We have a great advantage of being in the middle of an area with three dog parks within an easy drive, and of course, the one furthest away from home is our favorite. We started going to the park in the morning once or twice a week, and by the first summer in Virginia, we were hanging out at the park five or six days a week. Clover was lean and fit, but most of all tired, and I met some very nice people with equally nice dogs.
One of our first visits to the Dog Park has been nicknamed “The Mud Bowl.” There were about 15 or 20 dogs in the park with their humans all of whom were trying to stay out of the way of the maniacs. The dogs all seemed to be spurred on by the smell of the wet muddy earth as they ran around the park flinging mud in the air. There were a couple of greyhounds in the park, and that is always good — they love to run — and the other dogs (Clover included) love to give chase. I was afraid that I was going to fall in the mud (and never get up again) so I grabbed onto a tree and didn’t let go until it was time to go.
It is always easy to figure out when its time to go home … Clover will come over flop down on ground, or on this day, the mud. We made our way out of the park without me doing a slip and slide in the mud. When I got to the truck, I realized this filthy mud encrusted dog was going to get into my nice clean truck! I just happened to have an old t-shirt in the truck so I put the t-shirt on Clover to keep the mud “in.” She didn’t mind, she was so tired she passed out on the floor.
My next thought was how to get her cleaned off! When we got to the front door, I planned to walk her straight through to the back door and into the yard to hose her down, but she had a better idea. Clover went straight up the stairs, into the bathroom, and jumped into the bath tub where she waited for me to come give her a bath.