The Dog Has My Number

When it rained the day before I take Willow to Woof Park in Woodstock.   At Woof Park the whole fenced-in area is covered with layers of wood chips.  At the Sweat Mountain Dog Park that we normally go to it can get muddy after a rained (think clean car seats).

As this morning, there is a regular size dog of some kind with rich-chocolate brown long curly  hair that is usually there with his master. 

The dog loves catching and chasing a chewed up green Frisbee he carries around with him.  Every time that I am there he comes directly to me and drops  it at my feet.  Of course, my job is to send that Frisbee flying and scaling the wind waves. 

This morning I told his owner that I think he always picks me because he knows he won't have to run so far or jump so high.