So I woke up yesterday morning giddy with anticipation. It was the first DMV (DC/MD/VA) French Bulldog Meetup of the Spring and it was being held at the dog park in our very own town. The girls were so excited! Stella was shaking with anticipation the whole way there. It was already crowded and Stella took off running as soon as she was through the gate. Sophie was right behind her. For about 15 minutes. And then, Sophie spotted her nemesis in the form of a 12 year old, blind, deaf, miniature Pincher wearing a pink jacket. Apparently no dog is too weak for Sophie to attack and attack she did. I heard that horrific aggressive growl from clear across the dog park and then everyone else heard an equally scary sound... SOPHIE!!!! Yes, I screamed like a maniac, ran over to her and put the leash on. Time out for the Toph Monster. (If you are wondering what Paul was doing, he was drinking his Starbucks Bold. He thought I had it covered.)
After a while of Sophie watching everyone else run by her, and the arrival of more bullies (including an awesome white English that looked like Meaty from Rob & Big), Paul decided it was time for Sophie to have another turn. She did great until the Labradoodle went after the ball Paul had thrown for Sophie to chase. (Side note: If you throw a ball Sophie will chase it. If she doesn't want to play anymore, she will put it in her toy box instead of bringing it somewhat within your vicinity. She doesn't really understand how to bring it back to you. Her brain is very small.)
So this Labradoodle goes after Sophie's ball and she's like, My Daddy threw that ball to me and I'm either going to get it or take you down, Sucka. Needless to say, we heard that horrific roar again and the next thing I know Paul has her by the collar and is reattaching the leash. Tophie Time Out Part Two. We hear another ruckus break out, grab Stella and head for the car. Where I burst into tears because I don't understand what is wrong with Sophie and am sad she didn't have as much play time as Stella. (Look, I know this isn't rational, but she's my little bundle of love and I'm not rational when it comes to her. Sue me.)
Once home, it becomes apparent that Sophie has developed a limp. She is once again our concerned little being and we are massaging, petting, hugging to make sure she is OK. Without words, we agree that she needs to sleep in our bed (they are normally crated at night. they like it. oh, and they snore like bears.) So Sophie slept beautifully and was all better this morning. I, on the other hand, tossed and turned while she snored to full volume and look like a fright this morning. But at least Sophie is happy.
Next week, Paul's taking them to the dog park by himself. I'll go back once Sophie doesn't have to go to time out. Isn't that what dads do? Take their kids to the park?