You may be wondering if this is even my blog anymore, based on the title of this post and the relatively family-friendly fare of late. If one set out to deliberately arrange a morning scenario that put me entirely out of my comfort zone, it could not have been executed better than this one, in which I accompany my pal Chris to brunch and a visit to a dog park.
We began with a ride in a Fiat filled with two adults, one child, and an excitable dog. Yes folks, a Fiat. So dog and baby were all but in my lap, and we could not make it to the brunch venue fast enough. I tried not to breathe in the dog hair, as an allergy attack was not on my agenda, and I did my best to keep the baby suitably entertained (and was surprisingly successful as he repeated my name for the duration of the ride).
We rolled into Tico and I made apologies to the server for whatever was about to happen, but brunch passed in remarkably smooth fashion (the wonders that a kid can find in opening and distributing the contents of several packs of sugar), and before I knew it we were on our way to a dog park. Read that again and think about it: a dog park.
I wasn’t really paying much attention to the dogs, until one started to take a dump right in the middle of the pack, the results of which were promptly sniffed out and even licked by some of the ragamuffin mutts there. I gave a disdainful look to all who were present, and was about to scream whether anyone was responsible for this shitting dog, before asking Chris, who was fussing over some plastic bags, who the owner was. Turned out it was him. Like I can tell dogs apart from one another.
Thankfully such a scene didn’t last long, as I needed to get back to the hotel for a nap. Getting up at 4:45 in the morning to make an early flight takes its toll. The Topaz greeted me with my choice of queens, and I gratefully settled into one before dinner.
