47 Park It
A few owners circle the dogs and yell, “SIT!” Diesel pauses his advances, stunned by the sudden human voices. This is just enough time for his dad owner to grab him by his studded leather collar and lead him away. Bye, bye Diesel.
I suddenly remember Mom. I look to the bench where she was sitting and she’s gone. I spot her bright colored pants by the injured pup. I run up to the back of her and knock her over happy to have found her. “What the…?” she says. It wasn’t her. I run toward the car and turn my head to look everywhere. I start to panic. Surely she wouldn’t leave me. I prance back and forth nervously. There she is hidden behind a group of other owners. She’s looking for me in the other direction.
I dash off in a sprint as she calls me, grateful for her attention. She fastens my leash and I load into the vehicle ready for an extended nap. Ahhh, there’s nothing like a day of fresh dog park air to wear me out.
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© Gloria Yarina, Photographer