Duboce Debacle

On Saturday, Ace, El Jefe, and I trucked over to Duboce Park. When Jefe was a bachelor, his Sweet Pad looked out on this park. This is where he first realized that dogs are cool.

 
Ace encountered pups large and small.

 
She felled giant dogs with her cray play bites.

 
Then, the Frisbee and ball came out.

 
And then, the some lounging. We promptly led her exhausted Bosty butt a few blocks away to a dog-friendly bar, and she slumbered while we had some adult fun. Nothing like drinking with your comatose BT to gently end a warm, sunny afternoon.


This bell pepper was bigger than Little Mama’s head!!
 
Ace loves raw veggies. It’s kind of remarkable. So far, she has expressed an intense interest in leafy greens, broccoli, bell peppers, celery, carrots, and corn. She’s not too fond of cucumber or radishes, but I think she’s coming around to avocado. If we have to go down the road of cooking for her to prevent her GI problems (gulp!), I know we won’t have any trouble making little doggie salads for her. Aww, little doggie salads…

One Sick Mama

I suppose even mamas get sick sometimes. I can’t remember my own mother ever being sick when we were kids. It was incredible: we’d be hacking all over her for weeks and she was totally immune, like we were different species. Thankfully, Ace and I ARE different species, so it was her turn to play nurse when, like a clap of thunder, I suddenly fell ill Friday night and stayed in bed until Tuesday evening. For his own safety, El Jefe, who I’m happy to report is of the same species as I am, retreated to the couch for sleeping lest he contract The Death Bug on top of his weird allergies.
 
Little BT was great company. Like a friendly tumor, she attached herself to my butt despite us having an entire queen-sized bed to ourselves. As I prepared for work this morning, I realized all of her to toys had migrated into the bedroom and were strewn around and on top of the bed. Even the prohibited bully stick found its way against my fevered chest one night, deep in the midst of my agony. I woke up with a start, realized one of my worst nightmares was a reality, and quickly changed my shirt for a less meaty one.
 
I was tremendously disappointed to miss the Boston Meetup on Saturday, the warmest day of the year so far in our not-so-fair city, and the mark of Ace’s 9th month. I had been fantasizing about taking BT and Jefe to Funston after the Meetup, armed with a Frisbee, a bottle of water, and a little shade umbrella to shield their tender flesh from the sun. I would wear shorts — oh, the insanity! — and we would race about in the surf like we were at the kind of California beaches one erroneously expects to encounter in this great nation-state. Instead, I was swimming in my own sweat (and bully meat) and was mostly asleep.
 
So mama can’t always be on her game. I get it. That’s a tough pill to swallow (see what I did there?!). There will be many more sunny Saturdays and maybe even a few warm ones, someday, maybe, in our future. And really, Bostons don’t do so hot in the heat — Jefe made a brave attempt to play Frisbee with her later on Saturday that ended with Ace lying down on the sidewalk and refusing to move. That’s no fun for anyone, though a picture sure would have been nice…
 
I will leave you with a recent picture of our hero traversing the ice plant fields of Ft. Funston. She looks pretty happy with that mild sea breeze, don’t you think?