Yesterday was gray and gloomy, but despite the weather, I was determined to have my two dogs finally meet as the wee Josie got her final shots and could finally go and mingle with the common crowd. Thus, after about 40 minutes of socialization with Dante, the two spent a short time at the dog park and called it a day.
Today was sunny and I took both back for a romp. Alas, at least in Orange where the bark park was located, a maelstrom blew in with the Santa Anas and I decided to bring both back to my own backyard. Dante's owner, mind you, is down and out with a severe case of the flu - in fact, talking to him yesterday proved to be akin to conversing with a rutting elk in Northern Montana - so I figured his dog could spend a lonely afternoon in a rectory backyard or spend it with me and my family.
How delightful! A backyard lawn. Sunny weather. A vodka and tonic. The weekend edition of the Financial Times of London. Pistachios in shell! And two dogs frolicking about, then lying peacefully in the grass whilst the Digihusband and I conversed. I would have pictures of such a bucolic scene except it would have required me to get up from my seat and fetch my camera and I barely had the momentum to refresh my cocktail, so, frankly, upon which would you choose to expend your energy? Ah, I thought so.
That is how to spend a Sunday afternoon . . .
 That is to say, it was windy as H-E-double hockey sticks.
 "Are you okay?"
"Mmmaaaawwrrrrrr . . ."
"Do you need anything?"
"Nnnnnaaaargggggghhhhhh . . ."
"Okay, I'm bringing back the dog and some won ton soup from Peking Kitchen."
"Mooorrrryaaaahhhhhhh . . . denk you . . . *sniffle*"