Meet my morning mates.
This is from left to right: Chanel, she’s one year old and just passed a course to be a therapy dog; Luke, he’s five monfths old and an Australian shepherd; at the end is Clara, a swell Samoyed. Clara isn’t there every morning, but she’s the best sport for letting me bite her ears.
Every morning my mom and my pup’s peeps hang out in Washington Square Park. There is a dog run there, which I go to sometimes at lunch, but in the morning my friends and I hang out in front of the fountain. So we need to be on leash, except for Luke, who comes when he’s called. Mom seems to think I would bolt if I saw a squirrel or another dog across the street. Sheesh! (Don’t tell her but she’s probably right). Anyway, the leashes don’t seem to inhibit our play.
Mom says sometimes we really look like a pack of wolves.
Don’t let that little Luke fool you, he has razor sharp shark teeth and can take care of himself. Besides, he will soon be twice the size he is now, so I better get my licks in while I can.
And mild-mannered, therapy dog Chanel has quite a not-so-tame play personality.
Fall mornings wouldn’t be complete without breakfast. Chanel and I must have cleaned the park of about a bushel of leaves by now.
Enjoy the season!
3 hours ago