Small Town USA: Farmer's Markets and Friends

Your typical Park Slope Saturday morning streetside: baby strollers jostling for position on the sidewalk, dogs stopping for each sprig of green grown up through the concrete. The heat and humidity are still bearable. Myla and her owner are on their way to the off-leash extravaganza that occurs every morning before 9am at the incredibly long meadow that constitutes Long Meadow in Prospect Park.

On the two and a half block walk to the park, Myla meets 19 other leashed dogs. She allows all of them to sniff her superior butt with only the occasional growl. 19/19. Amazing.

At the park, Myla retrieves her tennis ball repeatedly, standing with the thing wedged part-way into her jowly mouth as she surveys the scene around her with queenly stature. The entire expanse of meadow--bigger than a football field--is riddled with dogs. Big dogs, fluffy dogs, rat dogs that the grass nearly swallows and Myla ignores them all, not exactly coming when her owner calls her, but racing up when the woman starts to move in another direction. They have the dance down. We'll call it 72/72.

Woman and dog stop for water at the Grand Army Plaza entrance to the park, where the weekly farmer's market is in full swing. Without missing a beat, Myla moves her weight to her hind legs and stands up, positioning her paws on the edge of the drinking fountain. She looks expectantly at her owner. Slobber drools from her jowls down into the bowl. Another dog approaches. Myla bristles. Myla stares at the dingo dog, about half her 69 pounds. Myla lunges at the dog and the owners pull on their leashes and look up at one another. Turns out they know each other: the victim's owner is the cousin of one of the aggressor's owner's bestfriends back in the Bay Area. Small world. Since no hard feelings, 1/1.

Myla pants patiently where she's tied in the shade as her owner shops for squash, blueberry scones, green beans, baguette, eggplant, onions, peaches and plums.