wheelchair confidentialLeaving a Mark

When I first got my dog, he had a lot of energy. I mean A LOT of energy. He required frequent trips to the dog park if I didn’t want him catapulting himself around the living room furniture. That dog would run for hours.

After a bit, we started to be welcomed into the “regulars” crowd at the park and people would come over to make small talk. While my dog basically ignored me until I made him come home, other people’s dogs stuck to them like Velcro. One afternoon, mid-conversation, one of the group’s mutts walked straight up to me, angled himself, lifted his leg and peed on my rear wheel. Mortified internally, I played it off as no big deal. The owners, melting with embarrassment, still made an overly apologetic exit.

Trying to appear unfazed, I let my dog run around some more. The joke was on me, though. In minutes, another dog ran up and peed on the other dog’s pee. Yep, time to go home, buddy.

— Dee Hydrant

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