Play dates

Patton, relaxing afterwards

I am given to understand that parents arrange play dates for their children so they are exposed to the right people and learn the right behaviors.  When I was a kid we played with the neighborhood kids, in the neighborhood.  We weren't all the same, we didn't all turn out the same, none of us were unduly scarred by the experience.
 

Gus

Jasper through the fence

I don't have children, but I'm inclined to put "play dates" in the same category as picking up your teenage children at the end of the driveway when they get off the school bus as if they are too stupid to find their way home from there.  Ok, maybe it's not quite the same category, but it's certainly on the same road to the town called Over Involvement Parenting.  That's the town where parents help their college-aged children with their homework.  But what do I know.  Like I said, I don't have children and maybe my parents were just neglectful.
 

The poodle is Oliver.  Patton was trying to
figure out what it was and why it growled at him.

Patton and Gus

All that aside, I went on a play date today, with Patton.  It was a big dog play date, two Saint Bernards, a Great Pyrenees, and Patton the Greatest Dane.  Cheryl Falkenburry hosted it at her place.  She adopted a shepherd named Jasper from me several years ago.  Jasper and my Trooper are cut from the same hairy shepherd cloth.  Jasper has a very big, intimidating bark, like Trooper, and apparently he's not so good with other male dogs.  He wasn't in the play group today, but he observed and offered his opinions from the other side of a fence.

Everyone had a good time, but the pictures say that better than I ever could.

Desi, front right, is a smooth coated Saint.
Gus, rear, is a rough coat, better for Patton to grab.

Patton, Gus, and Daisy, the Pyr

 

Patton and Daisy