This fine creature is our ultra-adorable dog, Layla. I never owned a dog, but finally succumbed to Mr. Red’s entreaties after many years of seeing him stop to pet every dog we passed and watching his gaze linger longingly at pups enjoying the local dog park. She was a rescue (like all of our pets) and VERY wilfull. She took great exception to the idea of leashes and walking sedately and so we enrolled her (okay, it was really OURSELVES) in obedience school. The school met in the middle of Griffith Park every Saturday at 8:30am for 10 weeks.
The idea of volunteering to get up early every weekend when you don’t have to may seem nuts, but it turned out to be kinda brilliant. Starting the weekend in the soft morning air with a group of hilariously varied dogs and owners walking around in circles out on the green grass was fantastic. Layla had a slight problem with the concept of “obedience,” so we ended up taking the class twice, which was not a hardship. When we got Truman the Wonder Poodle, we enrolled with him in the same class. By the time class was over each week, we were happy, accomplished and were pleased to note smugly to each other that most people weren’t even AWAKE yet (well, people without kids).
My skating class is at the same time, 8:30 Saturday morning. I get to the rink by 8:00, lace up the skates and off I go. The other Saturday regulars and I exchange nods. We don’t need to say a lot. We know who we are. We are the ones who choose to start the weekend this way.
By the time I am driving home at 9:00am, the city is beginning to wake up, but I have already had my skate. I am hungry for breakfast and ready for the weekend to begin.