Dog park reverie

Joined my sister for a walk in the park with her dog Anabel and some of our visiting Dutch relatives. We sat at one of the tables for cool drinks and sandwiches, when I noticed that we had a furry observer. He sat a little way off, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that he was intently focused on our sandwiches.

My sister and I immediately saved some pieces for him. He growled at Anabel, when my sister also gave Anabel a piece of hers.

Our one relative (my mom's cousin's husband) observed that the dog belonged to no one. That his coat lacked shine and seemed neglected. And that he was ignored by the other dogs. None of them engaged him in playing or chasing games.

The dog was not thin. But he was on his guard. He had no "protector", obviously. This sad dog had the freedom of the park. But it wasn't the magical place of fun and excitement for him.

I thought how this park - it's a fairly big park, and like I said, very popular with dog owners - could be such a special place for all the happy dogs playing and cavorting with each other (Anabel included) and here was one for whom it was something else. This was a little like the paradox of the starving wolf that is free and the chained dog, who is well-fed - and the myriad of character compromises that lurks within the shiny coat of that chained dog.

After we gave him our tidbits, and my sister went off to play with Anabel, I blew some luck on him. I asked if I could touch him (I wasn't sure because he had growled at Anabel.) He let me stroke his head. Another tidbit of mental nourishment? Then he got up and somewhat stiffly walked off, not minding all the frivolous pouches cavorting about.

(The pics in this post are not of the sad old dog - by the time it occurred to me to take one of him, he had already gone off)