Simple pleasures are still the best

Don't tell anybody at the St. Paul Police Department this but I broke a law this morning.

I think anybody saw me do it. But I gladly confess my sin here because it was worth it to see the result.

Basically, Pete, The Happy Dog (scroll to the end to see a picture) has a good life here. He gets fed twice a day and goes on (at least) two good walks as well. He has the run of the house and, when the weather turns better, has the run of the backyard as well. Although we don't feed him from the table, he gets plenty of treats, including runs to the local ice cream place six blocks away. All in all, it's a pretty good dog's life.

Every now and then, however, one just gets the urge to extend the pleasure a bit. It is a law in St. Paul (and, I presume, most other places) that your dog has to be on a leash when he is being walked. There is a playground a couple of blocks from our house. It has a baseball field and a couple of softball fields that turn into soccer pitches in the fall. We go by it often during our daily treks through the neighborhood. Occasionally, we'll walk through it. As you enter it, however, there is a sign warning dog owners to get their pets leashed.

For reasons I can't explain, I decided to go rogue this morning. Nobody was around when we entered the playground. After whispering in his ear to come back when called, I let Pete loose in left field. Mon cur didn't need any encouragement. He shot quickly along the fence, sniffing delightedly. He zigzagged across center field like Willie Mays catching Vic Wertz's ball at the Polo Grounds. I wandered over by second base, called his name and he came tearing to me at top speed.

Then we romped around the bases of the baseball field. Although I encouraged him to slide in safely at home, there is a limit to dog understanding. He prefers to go in standing but with a smile on his face.

He trotted over to a softball field and, in classic doggie fashion, paid his respects.

All in all, we were probably on the field for 5-7 minutes. In that time, however, I saw a seven-year old dog revert to puppyhood again. He ran joyously but came back upon request. As we left the playground, he graciously accepted going back on the collar and we headed home.

Once back at the house, he got his standard treat for a job well done and headed to his regular backyard post to sleep it off -- hopefully, dreaming happily about running free for a while.

I'm not sure who enjoyed the scene more - Pete or myself. There is something so basic but pleasurable about seeing a happy dog running full blast untethered. I guess we all have the urge to run free on occasion because, most of the time, we rarely get to do so. When we see another (in this case, a dog) rock and roll alone, we watch and enjoy from afar.

Indeed, as the old soup song goes, simple pleasures are sometimes the best.