Impromptu Dog Parks

Around midnight, Puck woke me up with an urgent whine. I tried to ignore him. He licked my face. But I rolled over. He hopped out of the bed, sat on the floor and stared at me. I knew he was staring, but I kept my eyes squeezed closed so as to avoid encouraging his determination to wake me up. He just kept staring for awhile. Every now and then he'd give a little whimpering wine of frustration at my refusal to get up. After several minutes, he finally barked. Just once or twice. Just enough to make sure that I was aware that he was serious about getting up.

So I got up, put on a sweatshirt, and kind of stumbled my way up the stairs.

He dashed out the door the second I had turned the doorknob to the front door.

It took me awhile to dash out after him. I think I was still half asleep and I had to find a pair of sandals. But once I did, I realized the reason for the urgency. The neighbors were out. Their frisbees were whirling back and forth. The dogs were in control of the street. And there was no surprise that Puck was part of their antics.

It was a Wednesday night/Thursday morning. Around midnight. And Puck was frolicking about in the sun with a gaggle of big, big dogs chasing frisbees and getting his encouragement and praise from neighbors who knew exactly who he was.

I'm pretty sure he doesn't get the game of frisbee, having only been "socialized" to catch balls and twigs, but there certainly is a sense of elated contentment standing under the Midnight Sun chatting with the neighbors about their summer solstice hikes and parties and watching one's little dog sporting about as athletically and eagerly as the neighborhood's big Alaskan dogs.

We'll be working on the frisbee catching though.