Happy Fun Time!

After many rather depressing posts to this blog, I am going to dedicate this post to happy fun time. In other words, I'll be dedicating this post to one of Hermione's favorite places: the dog park. Before getting into the dog park, though, I'll give a brief update: Hermione's mange seems to be under control, with her scratching almost entirely gone (and this with two of the three treatments still to go!). She had a small eye infection on Friday that is healing quickly, but otherwise is almost back to perfect health. So she looks good (having had a bath yesterday), feels good, and has reclaimed her title as Cutest Pup In All The Land (as if she could ever really lose it. I mean, just look at her!). Her mom, however, has been a deliquent blogger because of a debilitating case of strep throat, though is--happily--also on the mend. Soon enough mom and pup will both be back to 100% and will resume their habit of spreading puppy dog cuteness far and wide.

And one of the ways we spread this cuteness is by going to the dog park. Now, the small midwestern town that we call home is lacking in certain amenities (good grocery stores with organic meat; a large selection of decent restaurants; any store selling clothing for professional women), but it does have one of the best dog parks anywhere. It's a 10-acre park with varying terrain and a special spot just for small dogs. Hermione loves it. There is so much to smell, so many dogs to meet, so much room to run! And Hermione is always a hit whenever we go. Not only is she just an adorable, friendly, well-tempered dog, but she always shows off her acrobatic skills, making all the other owners marvel and wonder at her agility (okay, maybe not, but this is what I think they think, and I'm not *totally* wrong: at least once every visit someone asks me if Hermione has had agility training because she is such a nimble little pup). What skills, you might ask? Well, apart from smelling the rear ends of other dogs, or wading through muddy puddles, Hermione loves to run up to me and, just as she's about to reach me, leap into the air (see photo of Hermione, mid-leap). My job, of course, is to catch her. It took me awhile to get the timing down, making for some rather dorky dog part moments (FYI: the person in the photo isn't me, but is the only other person who can catch Hermione when she jumps). After I catch her, I throw her up into the air several times, making for full airborne pup. Hermione can't get enough, as evidenced by the fact that she will repeat this routine until I insist that she go spend time with the other doggies.

I find this game utterly entertaining. The other dog owners find it charming, strange, funny, weird, depending on how cool or lame they are. Rest assured there are no other dogs in the dog park who leap into their owners arms and then look forward to being tossed in the air. Or, if there are, there are no other owners willing to engage in such kind of play. And so Hermione manages to stand out, mainly because she is so capable of leaping up (and because she's found an owner who does indeed treat her dog as if she were a small child).

Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I should say that she might also stand out because she is the most submissive dog ever (I will post at another time about the rare exceptions to this rule). She will turn over on her back for pretty much any dog and for pretty much any reason. That's right: Hermione is a bit of a dog park floozy, satisfying the domination needs of all the town's pups. I choose to see her willingness, indeed even eagerness, to submit as a sign that she is a generous, kind-hearted dog, out to make all the puppies have a good time. She is, for example, the consummate hostess, always wanting to greet all the dogs as they come into the park. That being a good hostess might shade into being, ahem, a good hostess (wink-wink, nudge-nudge) is a semantic grey-area I choose to ignore, which is my right as a doggy mom. I'm going to focus instead on Hermione-As-Agility-Pup, defined not by her willingness to be on her back, but by her pure happiness at being tossed in the air.