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by Sinoah Storm-Talbot
The dog park is lively and exciting. It feels like a fairytale, a sanctuary, an adventure waiting to happen.
Phoenix loves to play there because of the variety of things to do, like running and hiding.
Her character belongs there; she is her name.
A Phoenix is a wild mythical creature with a clever mind of its own, and my Phoenix seems as though she has a high stock of energy that she burns off on a swift run.
After a life of 500 to 1000 years the Phoenix dies, and is reborn from his or her ashes. Phoenix got her name partly from the marks on her face that look like ashes.
A Phoenix has red and golden marks on his or her body, much like my pup who also has golden marks upon her. She is a beauty who has been brought down from heavens to earth.
The park always feels fresh due to plants cleaning the air. The cool breeze sweeps down, inviting me to run with it, sometimes she and I do, as it is part of the Phoenix's gift.
We love the large space full of obstacles. I dart about trying to catch Phoenix but she is too quick for me.
We need to leave, I call for the pup but she is too much like the Phoenix, she wants to stay.
The joyful barks and laughter are so inviting, everyone sounds proud to be there.
It is so close to home, and still we are itching to go back and explore.
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