A Walk in the Park

There is a lovely little park a block away from our house. We go there A LOT. And Owen looks forward to the park for two reasons. First, of course, is the play equipment full of friends. And second is the variety of dogs he encounters along the way. Owen's routine is to greet the dog (every single one), pet the dog, and get the dog to lick his hand.
Well a few days ago Owen wanted to go to the park just before dinner. This time he informed me he'd be walking his dog. Alright, I said. I grabbed our shoes and jackets. Owen grabbed his dog (a.k.a. vintage-style pull toy given to Owen by my parents when he first started walking).
We walked to the park with the loud clickety-clack, clickety-clack of the dog's wheels all along the way. When we reached the play equipment I figured our "doggy" would soon be forgotten. But I was very wrong. Owen went about introducing his pet to all the other dogs and their owners. He showed the dog to all his playground friends. And he made sure I took good care of the dog while he went down the slides and crossed the bridges.
We got all kinds of looks from people; friendly smiles, pity, genuine confusion. I just sat back and let Owen do the talking. Then with a clickety-clack, clickety-clack all along the way, we walked our dog back home again. And I couldn't help but think to myself that maybe it's time to get a real dog. If only it were as easy to take care of as our pull toy variety.