Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Jacob, Stop Whining!
Jacob (one of my French Poodles) has thousands of miles under his belt (collar?) so I don't understand why he's so fussy. But fuss, he does.
He's whining through the night. He leans up against me when I sit at the dinette, and lays his head on my chest and moans under his breath. Then he raises his paw and plops it over my knee. And looks up at me, wistfully. Pathetic!
I know he's not sick. He just wants to play. With rabbits, squirrels, gophers and groundhogs. He's what I call squirrelly. He just wants to get out of the motor home and run and chase and jump and play.
So, he whines incessantly. Gee, Jacob. Stop.
So, I look for a dog park sooner than I thought we'd need one.
But what do I find? Snobs. And a lot of 'em.
I find one dog park in Terre Haute and several in St. Louis, but none willing to let a traveling family come in and play unless we bow to extortion. One wants us to pay $10, per dog, then a $10 deposit for the special key that opens the golden gates. For 30 minutes?
Another wants $25. Per dog. Still another asks $80 for the first dog, then $25 for the second.
These outrageous fees scream one thing: Keep out. These private-member doggie clubs shun riffraff like us. They serve their own. Snubbed. We've been snubbed. By big city doggie parks. Hrumpf.
But wait. What's this I see, tucked outside big-city limits in the sprawling countryside of Troy, MO. A caring veterinary called Troy Hawthorne Animal Clinic, its tidy grounds surrounded by a fence and littered with doggie toys and jumps and tunnels. The Troy Dog Sports Park.
And we are welcome to come in and play. No fees required. Just a verbal promise about adequate vaccines and non-aggressive attitudes.
See the pictures (not many and not great, but it was cold) and you'll see this little park's loads of fun.
Go to their Web site and you'll see this as one or their core values: "