Our Dog, The Human

A prospective buyer came over earlier tonight, so Lee and I needed to get Millie out of the house for an hour. We decided to take her to the Savannah Dog Park. We’d never been before, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was very pleasantly surprised.
The fenced area is at the corner of Savannah’s Starland District, and the designers thought of everything. A mailbox at the gate was stuffed with plastic bags, which was a good thing because we’d forgotten one. There were two big bowls and a water hose. There were tennis balls strewn all over the lawn, remnants of many games of catch. And despite the fact that it’s a dog park, it seemed remarkably clean.
And the park wasn’t just designed for dogs. A deck was built under the shade of several large trees, and on it sat several comfy, wooden chairs and a grill. We settled in. It was very relaxing out of the sun with a breeze blowing, watching a half dozen dogs chase each other around.
Except, Millie always manages to stand out in a crowd. And not just because she’s so darn cute.
When we first got there, only one other puppy was in the park. After sniffing each other for a bit, Millie decided she was far too sophisticated for all this dog stuff, so she jumped onto the deck and jumped into a chair. As the puppy looked up at her and wagged it’s tail, she looked down as if to say, “Go along and play now. We humans are going to rest.”
She sat in the chair for a while, then finally needed to sniff around again. As more dogs came, she greeted each one with a lot of barking. As the other dogs wrestled and chased each other, she followed behind more slowly, barking loudly. It was as if she were saying, “Hey! Slow down! You kids are way too rowdy!” At least she wasn’t like that other dog, who kept trying to take a bath in the water bowl. A mud bath.
She had fun, and we had fun watching her. I was proud of Millie, my loud and pretentious bassett hound.