Working Very Hard At Relaxing

"black mixed brred dog in crate"

Working Hard at Relaxing

We are hard at work. Bet you can’t tell, can you? Wanna guess what we’re working on? You’ll never figure it out, so I’ll tell you.

We (really, just me) are working at “relaxing.” My person and I haven’t been out and about for quite a while now. She’s been writing, and then she’s been writing, and after that, she’s been writing … well, I think I’ve made that plain enough.  Before I knew it, I was crated in the back of the car and we were off to wander around the village. Felt like summer, smelled like fall.

Our last stop was Potter Park. It’s a huge (well, I think it’s huge) green space in the village where there’s tennis courts and a play ground for little humans and lots of very tall pine trees. I got to sit in my crate with the back door of the car open wide. We just sat and watched the show, listened to the wind in the trees and worked really hard at relaxing. I only growled once (at another dog, mind you and it wasn’t really a loud bark as much as it was a growl that stayed in the back of my throat that sounded like it could get louder, but, in the end, it didn’t.


I finished the final edits for my Suzy story this morning, stuffed my camera into a canvas bag, grabbed the treat bag, and Tessa, and headed into the village. For as much as I moan about life in a small town, today turned out to be one of those days when there’s no better place to be; well, maybe it  has something to do with living in the Finger Lakes region. I’ll bet that anywhere you are in this part of the country, it’s a good place to be today.

Tessa and I walked the village – I parked the car in the parking lot behind the bank, and we walked a circle from one side of the canal back to the car before ending up at the park.  We almost had the place to ourselves, except for a dad hurrying to keep up with his toddler son as he balanced a baby in a front pack.

And, yes, there were pine trees, filling the air with that rich pine scent. Such a timeless feeling to sit in a park that I can remember playing in when I was in third grade. The pond that is no more because it was

"Pine trees and a public tennis court"

Another day in paradise.

turned into a community garden plot, is on the other side of the tennis court that you can almost see beyond the trees.

This is the view that Tessa and I have as we sit in the back of the Volvo, watching that dad and his kids.

Not too much time goes by before a black, Dodge caravan pulls into a parking space next to us. A woman with a curly mop of hair gets out and starts the process of getting two young girls out of the van and headed in the direction of the playground before she lifts out a good-sized baby and the requisite stroller. Lunch boxes are plopped onto a nearby picnic table; the toddler that belongs to the dad runs over to investigate, and Tessa and I sit and watch, working very hard at relaxing.

This is a big deal for Tessa. When we first started taking our car adventures, if I left her for just five minutes, she’d have a hissy fit until I came back. That was three years ago when she first came to live with us. And, that’s about the time that I stuck a crate in the back of the car and off we’d go. We’d go someplace with distractions: pedestrians, other dogs, busy streets, parking lots, groomed trails, and, after she was reasonably tired out, we’d end up back at the car where we’d just sit. She got to check things out and get used to the crate and I got to watch her check things out. It proved to be an agreeable way to spend some time.

And, so it was today.   [gplus count=”true” size=”Medium” ]






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