We were at the park, & just as I let the dogs off leash to sniff about a redwood while I sipped my coffee, Trooper took off in a mad dash across the green–luckily no golfers were in play–& directly into an enormous Mexican Easter picnic, complete with soccer game and BBQ.
And here comes me, nearly dropping my coffee, hat flapping on my back, waving, as I run, in a “he’s friendly” gesture, which really, depends.
A large flowery mama threw up her hands to stop him but, a swarm of little girls in fanciful party dresses descended upon him, the token Easter bunny, with wide-eyed wonder.
I swooped in and grabbed him, just as a dozen hands reached out to pet him–& perhaps pinch a finger. Trooper–so inviting–will lay against you in the grass forever if you scratch his belly, nuzzle his ears, but strange hands coming at him, all at once, bad plan.
Once rescued–Trooper? The girls?–Mama looked up and smiled. “Whew!” we both agreed, and away we went, back to the redwood, the quiet, while Trooper whined over my shoulder for the bbq. It did smell good.