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Posts Tagged ‘dog park’

I just realized that our photos from Biltmore aren’t yet ready for public viewing (aka I have no idea where they are), so in lieu of Gilded Age Smoky Mountain grandeur, I present to you a filthy mongrel, fresh off of a digging fest in a baseball diamond, enjoying a sunny afternoon.

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While most people are anxiously anticipating the matchup between the Steelers and Packers in the Super Bowl tomorrow evening, or at the very least looking forward to the parties that accompany the event, another possibly more important game occurred this past weekend at the Adger’s Wharf Dog Park Stadium.  No, it wasn’t Puppy Bowl 2011 .  This was a rough and tumble gridiron classic between the overmatched and outnumbered Finley and two Labrador Retrievers named Luke and Stella.

Observed by a raucous crowd of six people and a couple small dogs, the mother/son labrador duo proved to be far too much for Finley.  They worked together to dominate the time of possession, throwing epic butt slams at every turn and generally just decimating any hope of victory for our young Golden. Finley’s lack of skills didn’t help her case much.  She couldn’t figure out exactly how to even pick up the football.  Her own trademark butt slam was non-existent.  It was like we were watching a completely different player out there than the one we had coached.

The labs may have won the Adger’s Wharf Super Bowl but that didn’t stop Fin from galloping into the shadow of a live oak to stare at the dogs with a smug look on her face, which, when I think about it, is really the move she performs best.

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Our friends visiting from the frigid Bluegrass realm seemed genuinely baffled by our repeated apologies about the “cold weather”.

“It’s normally not this cold.  It’s normally around 60 degrees,” we stated over and over, attempting to withstand the tundra-like 52 degree temperature settled over Pitt Street Pier in Mount Pleasant.

Our friends looked at us like we were nuts, obviously enjoying what had to feel absolutely balmy in comparison to the snow-wracked region they had just escaped.  Egrets fighting over a shrimp in the marsh below looked at us and told us to stop being ridiculous.

My blood has definitely thinned out.

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The picture to the left here is deceiving. The placidly happy mongrel sitting patiently awaiting entry into the James Island County Park dog park had just been behaving like a banshee for the past ten minutes, panting uncontrollably in the car after realizing where we heading before attempting to rip poor Caroline’s arms off to get into the gate.

Upon entering the dog park, the banshee returned, greeting every single person in the place well before attempting to make friends with other dogs, diving into the lake while nearly getting drowned repeatedly by Rottweiler, baptizing a 10 month old golden retriever by use of her patented “swinging butt” technique, and generally causing a small amount of havoc.  It was as if she believed she owned the place.

Until the Great Dane arrived.

I’m pretty sure this was Finley’s first encounter with a Great Dane and she immediately toned down her insanity, similarly to what she does while observing horses pulling carriages through the streets of the Holy City.  Great Danes, after all, do appear pony-like in the very least and this one’s presence at the dog park seemed to temper the whole ruckus a bit.  Needless to say, we welcomed his appearance as we were trying to round up Fin for the drive home and hope to exploit is skills of ruling the roost to our advantage in the future.

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Slackers

Yes, that is what we have become.  After whirlwind months in June and early July that resulted in us traveling thousands of miles and only partaking in Charleston 3 days a week, we have finally been able to settle back into normalcy.  This reestablishment of normalcy has lent itself towards complacency, however, and we have forgotten how to roam.

But not to the dog park on South Adger’s Wharf, Finley’s favorite downtown hangout.  Only a 10-11 minute walk or 4 minute car ride from the house, the park boasts a fairly large fenced in dog run and an off-leash area that is semi-fenced in that doubles as the Easy Bay Playground baseball diamond.  So far in our visits, Finley hasn’t encountered one horrid cerebus beast or cranky, off-putting owner who is somehow surprised and angered when a dog runs up to them within a designated dog park area.  In fact, some of the best conversations I have had recently have come under the shade of one of the park’s live oaks, where a casual friendly exchange of pleasantries regarding hounds has turned into either an insightful, informative, or hilarious take on the politics and social spectrum of South Battery.  Quite the nice arrangement we have there:  Finley can tire herself out with feats of speed and strength while we learn the real reason an unacquainted-with *Mrs. Limehouse continues to throw her buckets of dirty dishwater all over an unacquainted-with *Mr. Archambault’s Hudson Classic convertible. (*Note: names changed due to lack of memory and wish to avoid reciprocity of act on own vehicle)

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