One of first things I did, moving into our new ‘hood, was to look for the nearest dog park was. My daily practice is to go for a dog walk. This is not because I have a dog. I don’t. Not anymore. I do long for another dog, but it’s not to be, at least for the foreseeable future. So what I do in the interim is pat every dog whose owner gives the go-ahead
Google maps indicated an off-leash dog park a 15 minute walk away “Go through the small park, and down a set of stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, turn left. The dog park would be found within 5-7 minutes” Easy peasy/
I found the small park and, although almost hidden, I found the set of stairs. ‘A set of stairs’ did not adequately describe what I was in for. I looked down, down, down to the ravine with the path to the dog park. I later counted, 131 steps with two landings and a ten foot path to the last set of 10. Equiv to a 10 storey house.
I could make it down. But could I make it up.But then: a miracle. dogs were materializing before my eyes. The first one, behind me, ready to go down. Coming up, a dog walker, with a pack. There was another dog running up the hill beside the stairs.
I was in heaven. I met all of the dogs that accepted my advances, which always started with, “May I pat your dog”. The encounters with the doggies are also opportunities for brief (but highly satisfying) conversations with dog owners and dog walkers.
Betty, the middle aged boarder collie goes into love mode when she sees me: head slightly lowered, a big smile and furious wags. Her step quickens when she sees me. As does Duke the solidly built golden lab, who has a special bark for me. Cal, the golden doodle positively vibrates with happiness. The fabulous three white shepherds (Odin, Zeus and Freya) bark and bark until they hear the cry whenever I see a medium to large size dog: Puppy (or Puppies as the case may be. The smaller ones, I address as little pooch)
Now, I stride the 15 minutes straight line through city streets, veering off only when I reach the crescent with the park that leads to the stairs. As soon as I veer, I feel a calm upon me. I anticipate the dogs I hope to encounter, but the daunting stairs have also become my place of peace. Amongst the trees that turn colors, the woodland plants, the sound of the stream babbling below, the smell of the fresh air. City sounds left behind, I ‘do’ the stairs, up and down, three times. I feel my bum and legs and lungs getting a workout.
I pause at the bottom – checking left and right for dogs that may not do the stairs, they may just be going for a ravine walk.
The stairs, have become a triple bonus: fitness, dog pats and shared-interest social encounters. They were daunting, but those stairs have became a stairway to heaven for this for dog-lover.
Oh and the dog park: at the bottom of the stairs, a paved path beside a burbling stream looked inviting but a dreary graveled enclosure. Totally unappealing to dog and man.
