Going to the dogs...

Going to the dogs was right, it seemed like the entire contents of Collingwood Heights had turned out with their pets; ballon, ferret, and other wise. No one seemed to have realized it was a dog party and one stringy guy even had an equally stringy rodent sitting in the nest of his hair. It was 100% Collingwood, patches ruins and all. No one seemed to even think about the crime scene right outside of the gates of the Dog Park marking the final resting place of yet another ghost of Collingwood Heights. Life worked like that, and in a place where everyone would rather hear rumors than any story on who was president or which countries had declared war on each other, you were closer to everyone as a person even if what you knew about them was made up. The same babies she had held as their mothers fumbled for their keys ran around toting shiny rubber puppies made by the same guy who had twisted balloons into swords for her not too long ago. Mothers ran after dogs and Volunteers ran after children and all looked a bit too pink in the heat of desperation. Some desperate for a companion, others for shade, but all were there together and that was something to rejoice because no one had died yet. I chose one of the sparsely grassed areas of the lawn and sat down to relish in the smells of less doggy dung than usual. One pup had strayed over to a fence edge cowering into one of the posts, licking and gnawing at the wood grains. Charlotte slipped the complementary treat bag from her pocket and unstuck her sweat glued butt from the dirt. When she finally got with in a couple steps of the dog it froze, teeth still exposed. Charlotte chose a spot a little to the left of the statuesque furball and lowered herself back down with her back on the fence. "There isn't really much worth eating here is there, except these biscuits, and I don't really want them." I slowly moved my head to look at the dog chewing at air trying to shake the splinters from it's pinky gums, "unless you want them?".  I withdrew my hand and pushed my arm to full extension and held the treat within aromal reach of the puppy's perky pink nose. The whole think was pink. The nose and gums and paws and even the skin underneath its scraggly white fur. It reached its long tongue out pulling the tasty treat to the ground before snapping it up and going back to chewing at the air and staring straight ahead. I set another treat on my knee to coax the pup and followed its gaze. A man stood across the way in a pressed purple suit set gazing out at the crowd from under the brim of his hat. His eyes were indistinguishable but he didn't pant from the heat even with the long pants, shirt, coat, and hat. A dog pranced out of the grasp of a child and dodged towards the man and hit him by accident, but he didn't flinch much less look down at the pesky nuisance. The shiny plum shoes pointed like a neon sign toward the empty ballon cart with a dispersing line of disappointed kids slowly walking away empty handed without little bubble dogs waiting to go out with a bang when they were loved a little too hard. I shuddered, jerking my head down to my lap to see a rosy belly turned up in my lap. "Rosy baby, aren't you a sweetheart".  I cradled the curious lump in my arms and rose. Around it's neck it wore a paper band around it's neck marking it as one of the dogs one of the local humane societies was putting up for adoption. "Well you seem unaccounted for, let's get you a collar and make us official". I wouldn't be sleeping alone tonight surviving the flailing sounds from the living room, someone would be keeping my feetsies warm and my dreams my own.