At The Dog Park

“You guys are so cool and we really appreciate your friendship. I’m so glad we met you all.” Whenever I was with Margot I always referred to us in the plural form. We were a duo. We are a duo.

I remember saying this to my new friends about a week or so after I moved here to downtown San Jose. I was walking my little French Bulldog, Margot, through the lush, green and beautiful campus of San Jose State University on that first night after I moved into my apartment on South 4th Street when I saw a bunch of dog owners gathered in a small field just outside of the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Library. Margot immediately started tugging on the leash and she does not brook dissent lightly. I didn’t want to get bit.

So we walked over there and I unclicked her so she could run and play with the other pooches. Margot is only about twenty pounds but heaven help any dog that gets too frisky with her. I never have to worry about Margot. I only worry about the other dog, regardless of size differential. Margot doesn’t start fights but she doesn’t lose them either. In boxing they say that you can’t hurt what you can’t hit, and she is just way too fast and tenacious.

“Hey guys, my name is Thomas and that’s my dog Margot running around over there. That completely insane little black Frenchie. Dumbest dog in California. She has two brain cells connected by one very unreliable synapse. She’s sweet though. We just moved here from San Rafael.”

“She’s so cute!”

“Yeah, but she’s fucking crazy. Watch your fingers around her.”

They laughed and I lit a joint and passed it around. Everyone smokes here. Everyone. You cannot walk down the block here at any time of day without smelling marijuana, It’s not something that people even try to hide anymore. There are seven dispensaries within a 10 minute walk. I saw a guy doing rips from an eighteen inch glass bong on a park bench the other day.

They were all friendly, introducing themselves in turn, about eight in all were there that evening. It was early September and the sun wouldn’t set for another two hours. The dogs pranced around and chased frisbees and tennis balls before us, euphoric in their collective play and evoking laughs from all of us from time to time. I was happy to see Margot so happy. I learned the names of all the dogs first and then I learned the names of their owners.

Alex was born in Michoacan, Mexico but he mostly grew up in Sacramento. His girlfriend, Baya, was from the Philippines but she lived in California for most of her life as well. No one loved Margot more than Baya and Margot loved no one more than Baya. Instant best friends. Margot loves to be chased but Baya is the one person who she will allow to grab her and love her up. They are so cute together. Baya likes to jiggle her and Margot likes to be jiggled.

Me and Alex have a lot of common interests. Mostly sports. We are both huge fans of the UFC.

“Dude, I know you're gonna watch the Topouria-Holloway fight on Saturday, right? Don’t even tell me you’re not. My son is coming over here from Santa Cruz and we’re gonna cook up some surf and turf and watch the main card together.”

He looked at me and raised his eyebrows in an incredulous fashion. Alex is a good looking kid, around 26 years old. Half my age.

“Que carajo, mi amigo? (What the fuck, my friend?) Of course I’m watching that fight and all the others.”

I liked Alex the first time I met him. He always has this great smile and positive energy and he reminds me of what it was like to be that age. He also helped me improve my Spanish whenever we spoke. His dog, a little white Bichon Frise named Ovo, sauntered towards us. I called out to him.

“Hey Ovo! Ven aqui. Ven a mi manera, mi amiguito.” (Come here. Come my way, my little friend.)

He looked at me and Alex and then turned and ran off towards the other dogs.

“Qué fue esa mierda?,” I asked with a smile. (What was that bullshit?) Alex laughed and passed the joint. I was mostly just learning more Spanish expletives while Margot was starting to beat up a German Shepherd and I was about to break it up when the Shepherd decided that she had endured enough pain. As she slunk off in defeat, Ovo tried to mount her from the rear.

“Mira ahora!” (Look now!) I slapped Alex on his arm and he laughed. Ovo was a tiny would-be sexual predator. He could never reach high enough to put his deviant plans into effect though.

“Ovo! No means no! Besides, you need a step ladder,” Alex shouted and I laughed. The joint made the rounds back to me.

Jacob was a software engineer and he had a Labradoodle named Camper. The kind of dog that would still be a puppy ten years from now. When he ran he looked like a see-saw. Up, down, up, down, chest, rear, up, down. Happiest dog ever. You had to stay on your toes when Camper was around, or you could easily get a big slobbery lick on the cheek. Not so bad really. He is adorable.

There were several other regulars and we met there almost every night during the week (weekends not so much) and all of the dogs were so happy, and it made all of us happy to see them running together with the unbridled joy and playfulness that only dogs are blessed to know. I value every single relationship with the people I met there and I am grateful for their friendship.

That’s why I feel so sad right now.

I walked over to the dog park about an hour before people arrive there with their dogs every night. I was carrying a printed sheet of paper and I taped it up to the base of the lamppost just behind the large bench where we always gather, There was a picture of me and Margot at the top and beneath that it read:

Hello My Friends,

I apologize for the Irish exit but I have never really been very good with goodbyes. I tend to just quietly slip out the back door, which I suppose is what I am doing now.

I recently learned that my mother has stage 4 lung cancer and it is uncertain how much time she has left. She is 86 years old and has no family to take care of her so Margot and I are moving to New York to live with her. We really don’t want to leave here. We love this city, but it’s just something we have to do. You have to play the cards that life deals you. Hopefully we will be back to see you all again somewhere down the road.

Ovo, remember, no means no!

- Thomas & Margot

p.s. You guys are so cool and we really appreciate your friendship. I’m so glad we met you all.

THE END