Most of my Christmas mornings have been spent inside, while snow falls outside — or at least cold temperatures reign on the other side of our festively lit windows. We have a spectacular breakfast to the sound of Christmas tunes and then dive into a pile of gifts.
While we may have enjoyed the latter of those traditions — that is, the breakfast and gifts — no snow or frigid temps kept us indoors this Christmas. So this year we joined a familiar group at the dog park and let Banjo play to her heart’s content.
The weather was lovely. The temperature was comfortable — not too warm, so we were wearing hats, but not so cold that my fingers got stiff after throwing the ball for the umpteenth time.
And then there was the fog. Rolling in from the river and veiling the trees, everything was quiet and softly shrouded. It was so beautiful.
We spent a while at the park, throwing the ball and chatting with the other pet owners. We didn’t expect many visitors, but about a dozen other people showed up with their dogs and Banjo got to spend a great Christmas morning having a blast.