The running of the hounds

When was the last time that your face broke out in a wide grin at 6:30 in the morning?

When did you actually laugh out loud before breakfast?

This happens to us every morning when we take our Finnigan to the running of the hounds at Conroy Pit dog park. Here, we experience every emotion, sometimes all at once. We are joyful, sometimes fearful, sometimes angry watching our dog get beaten up.

It's like no other experience, and it is the one part of the day when I feel I'm living in the moment.

Today, we met Hunter, who is some kind of African dog, a rescue from a notorious puppy mill in West Quebec. His owner calls him his "Porsche" since he figures he's spent $38,000 on medication and vet bills. Hunter had giardia, an infection of the small intestine when his owner claimed him. Since then, he needs medication for his gastro-tract, among other things. Amazing, that someone would dedicate a good part of his paycheque to keeping this wonderful dog alive. I know I could not afford it.

There's always drama at the dog park. One day, a swarm of cops descended to cuff a predator who was bothering a woman out for a walk with her dog. Just three days ago, two poor unfortunates became victims of a nasty wasp nest that their dogs had inadvertently stomped on. In the middle of it all, the man dropped his cell phone and spent several anxious moments getting stung while trying to retrieve it. Another day, someone ran over a dog in the parking lot.

Good and bad.

It's all part of a life with dogs.

High drama. Tremendous fun.

Time to go home. C'mon Finn.

Can't wait to go back.