So most mornings, I take my dog for a walk at one of three places — along the Clackamas River, at Clackamette Park, or to the field behind the Oregon City High School. On weekends, though, it’s kind of nice to mix things up. To that end, I often take Sugar to the dog park at Mary S. Young State Park. I always present it to her like we’re going some real special place, like Chuck E Cheese. Unfortunately, like Chuck E Cheese, Mary S. Young Dog Park is a muddy mire of crap and piss that never dries out. It is just f’ing disgusting. And since my dog loves mud puddles, she always looks (and smells) like a little slop hog within seconds of arrival.

There’s a hose there, which is nice, but even after rinsing her off really good, she still smells like a dog toilet when I get her into the car.

So I think I’m done with Mary S. Young. I don’t know why we keep going back there anyway. It’s in West Linn (I have decided to make the whole city of West Linn my archenemy so whenever I say “West Linn” from now on, you have to imagine me squinting and frowning and waving my clenched fist) and there is apparently some cop who hangs around there who likes to hand out fines if you take your dog anywhere in the park except the off-leash area. And when it comes right down to it, Sugar doesn’t even like to play with other dogs, which is the whole point of a dog park. She just wants to chase her ball. She hardly even knows the other dogs exist.

So today, after a nauseating slog through Mary S. Young, we went to our usual park by the Clackamas River so I could swim her a bit and clean her off  (later, when we got home, I gave her a supplemental shampoo bath. Belt with suspenders, and all that.) Anyway, at THAT park, I ended up talking with a couple of ladies, one of whom had a small dog on one of those thin cord leashes that are about as thick as piano wire, and the little mutt wrapped that leash around my bare leg then took off after a squirrel, giving me a leash burn that stings like hell. Silly me, wearing capris in this lovely spring weather.

Well I’m safely home now, the dog is shampooed and sweet smelling. All the unsatisfactory dog adventures are done … for today. To be replaced by unsatisfactory adventures in TV watching, apparently, as my husband is currently watching the truly execrable 1995 film “Virtuosity.” I think I need to go upstairs and take a nap.